Love Conquers All, Tom
by girl of ireland 44
Summary: Sam knows that her first year at Hogwarts will be an exciting one, but she doesn't know how exciting until she meets Tom Riddle. Follow the tales of Sam and Tom! Can Sam make him a better person? Read to find out!
1. Forgotten Groceries and Owls

Note: Tom Riddle began Hogwarts in 1938. He was born in 1926. I don't have any idea how kids talked (what words they used) back then, but I tried my best!

Please review also! This is my first fan fiction, and I need to know how I am doing! Thanks!

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I met Tom Marvolo Riddle in my first year, on that big train called the Hogwarts Express. I remember like it was yesterday, but I'd rather not think of it all. When I think of it, I remember The End.

My mom was a first grade teacher, and often after school I would walk to the school and assist her around her colorful, simple classroom. Organize her papers, help set up lessons, decorate the walls of the classroom with the ABC's and cartoon animal prints and such. The basics.

See, my life was pretty ordinary. I lived in an ordinary town in an ordinary house. Nothing special. Nothing special about my looks either. Just long brown hair tied up in two pigtails with ribbons. Big green eyes. "Nerdy" glasses. Typical looks. Typical life, typical family, typical everything.

But that all changed in the July of 1938, the day I got my letter. My Hogwarts letter….

My dad was at work; working in some factory I forgot the name of, the morning when I got my letter. My mom was off grocery shopping at the market.

I was in the living room, drawing. I loved to draw. Whenever I was feeling down, I would pick up my pencils and my worn sketchpad and flip to a blank page and draw what I felt. I often drew what I saw going on outside the window, an impression of my nosy neighbor weeding her rose and daisy and who knows what else garden, a dog sitting on its haunches staring through some window with sad puppy eyes, a mother walking a stroller, a kid with two or three dolls clutched in her little arms, the house next-door, or the big blanket of blue with white fluffy clouds.

Of course, it was challenging to draw that quickly, to get the impression of what I was seeing and wanting to draw. But I had this strange feeling that while I was drawing, the people outside or whatever I wanted to draw went in slow motion, which suited me just fine. I couldn't explain it, really. I figured it was just me and when I was concentrating so hard and such that time when slow. Or maybe I was just fast. I didn't know.

But that was about all the strange things that occurred around me. Sure, one time I dropped an important paper, and the wind carried it across the street into some water, and when I reached the water, there was my arithmetic problems, floating about two inches above the water. I figured the wind was to blame. And I never thought about that event again, until I got my letter.

Perhaps I should have really known something when I was at school one day and this big guy came up to me and attempted to steal my lunch money. When he grabbed it from my hands, he shrieked loudly, and ran off, holding his hand, leaving the money on the floor by my feet. My money had burnt him. I dismissed it as just an ordinary event of some science thing like friction or air temperature or whatever.

Just ordinary, I had thought, as I gladly shoved my money back in my skirt pocket and dashed off to the diner to buy some chocolate milk. You see, I thought these things ordinary. All the rest of my life was ordinary, why shouldn't this be? That was my reasoning.

That's why I was so shocked over the letter, I guess. I didn't even know such things as witches and wizards existed.

As I was drawing my nosy neighbor's garden, just weeded, and applying red colored pencil to the roses, I hear a loud "Hoot!" outside. I was puzzled. Usually, we didn't get owls in this neighborhood, and when one of those seldom times I did hear the hoot of an owl it was at night or late in the evening. And I had only heard two hoots in my life up to that point. This was my third, and the first time it was daylight.

I set my sketchpad down on the wooden coffee table, carefully placing my colored pencils on top of it and using a paper weight to hold them down, lest they would fall. I approached the window, and looked out. All seemed ordinary.

My nosy neighbor, who I will introduce to you as Ms. Rose, as she will be important later in my story, was in her lawn chair across from my house sipping lemonade or tea or perhaps her favorite, as I well knew, because of all the times she tried to offer it to me, water with a hint of olive. Yuck!

A dog I knew as my next-door neighbor's, called just Dog, sniffed at our lilies. Some random kid in overalls ran down the street, hollering at the top of his lungs "I'm flying!" I chuckled softly. I loved kids. In fact, I hoped to become a first grade teacher just like my mother one day.

Of course, that same day changed that.

Well, nothing seemed out of place that day, unless you counted the…

My eyed grew to the size of apples. There, out on the fence surrounding the garden behind a tree where only I could see sat a big, gray, handsome owl, his amber eyes scrutinizing me. In his beak was the thing that made me gasp. It was a letter. Yes, maybe that does sound ordinary, but really, how many times have you seen an owl in your yard hidden from view from all but you with a _letter _in its beak? Didn't think so!

But yes, there sat the owl, and there stood me. If anyone had looked in on me that day, they would have found an eleven year old girl with huge eyes and an open mouth leaning forward toward the window, her nose almost touching the clean glass and leaving a stain. (Gasp!-That would have been from my mom!)

Finally, I overcame whatever shock I was in, and thought that the owl would make a great picture to draw. I crept over to the table, not wanting the owl to see much movement and fly away. It didn't, and continued what it had started as soon as I left the widow, preening its handsome feathers. Carefully, like a cat creeping on a poor canary out of its cage, I headed back to the window eagerly, pencil and pad in hand.

When I had just set up my sketchpad in my lap, and had my drawing utensil ready for action in my right hand, the howl gave a hoot, and swept of the fence in a bundle of gray feathers. It swooped down to the front of the living room door, the entrance to the house, and dropped the letter onto the steps, and flew up, up, and away. I watched as it disappeared into the big blue blanket of summer sky.

Being my curious self, I laid down my drawing things and went over and opened to door to the outside world. I looked up and down the street. No owls. Just a grouchy old lady sipping olive water reading a novel.

I looked down at my feet. There is was! A letter! Carefully, I bent down and touched it. It didn't explode or anything. It just moved lightly under my touch. Reassured, I picked up the letter and stood up. I turned it over in my hands. Some kind of crest thing was sealed on it. I turned it over again, the front addressed to me. It even contained the line "Attic" which was where I had my room. Now I was scared. What if someone was spying on me?!

I looked around the neighborhood again. No one looked suspicious or was even looking at me. I retreated into the house and shut the door with a frightened slam and locked it, something I seldom did because of all my trips outdoors.

I went and sat on the couch, my eyes practically glued to the envelope. Finally, after much consideration, I gingerly broke the seal and pulled out its contents, some parchment. My mouth slowly opened as I read what was neatly printed on them. Finally, an extraordinary thing in my ordinary life!

* * *

I was sitting on the kitchen table when Mother got home, loaded down with vegetables, fruit, bread, dairy, and meat. 

I had the letter open and spread out on the table in front of my smiling self. I could barely contain my excitement. I believed for a fact that this letter was genuine, in was no faux. Rather, though, I _needed _to believe it. Having this, being this, made me feel…unique, and not plain and ordinary. It made me feel part of a greater something, feel excepted, and wanted, and not just some girl that attends some school that lives in some house in some place. With this letter, I felt that I was much more than I ever expected.

My mom set down the paper bags. A few oranges tumbled out, and, unlike I usually did, I did not go and pick them up. I just sat there, excitement built up in me. Even with me mom soon going to have a child, I didn't help her out with the food. All I could think about was the letter. The letter and Hogwarts and September First and platform nine and three-quarters. My childish mind was filled with images of me pulling a rabbit out of a hat, levitating a cup of water, encounters with unicorns and pink glowing fairies. My mom stared at me, her eyes gesturing toward the groceries.

"A little help with these, Samantha J?"

"Of course, Mom, but look at this!" I practically shoved the paper into her face.

She took the paper and started to read. After a while, some kind of radiant glow or something passed over her face, and she practically danced me into the living room, leaving the forgotten groceries behind. Doing the best jig she could with such a round belly, she shouted joyously.

Finally, she plopped down on the sofa and patted the seat next to her. I came out sat down with her. She sighed happily, and stroked my hair. "I always hoped that one day this letter would come, Sam."

"Whatdoyoumean?" I said in a rush, straightening up to stare directly at her.

"Well, Sammy, my great grandpa Will went to Hogwarts so many years ago. Wizard blood ran in my veins, and now it is in yours."

"B..but!" I sputtered, "How did you know that? Why did you not tell me? Are you a witch or something? How about daddy? Does he know? What about Paul? Will he be one too?"

"Slow down, my Sam. Just settle down and I will tell you all I know."

I snuggled up close to my mom, and she explained:

"Well, I never went to Hogwarts, but like I said earlier, my great-grandpa did. And from words passed down to me, I heard he was a pretty smart kid. He was great at Quidditch, a wizard game played on brooms with enchanted flying balls. He was a master at Transfiguration. That's where you turn things into something else, like a banana into a baboon. But that's pretty advanced. When you go to Hogwarts, you will just start out with the basics, simple potions, levitating feathers, simple spells. But before you do all of that, you will get a wand. Yes, dear, a magic wand. With it, you can do a great many things. You'll learn more about that later, however. See, you will go to Hogwarts, and live there and learn things that wizards and witches must know. You will go there seven times, between each getting summer break and a Christmas break. After that, you will have chosen or will be close to choosing a magic career. Oh, just think! My very own daughter working at Gringotts! Or at the Ministry of Magic! Or a teacher at Hogwarts! Just think!"

My mom smiled happily, and I smiled along with her even though I had no idea what a ministry was or what in the world Gringotts was.

"Mom," I began, "how about Paul? Will he become a wizard like me?"

"Well," Mom chuckled, "For one thing, you are not a wizard. You are a _witch_. And maybe your brother Paul might become a wizard. He's only five though; it will be a while before we know for sure. Unless he displays some magic talent, which he most likely will if he is indeed a wizard. It would be great for Paul to become a wizard! And, speaking of which, I must go pick him up at the babysitters, Ms. Ranch's."

She gently shoved me aside, and said, "Your father is not a wizard Sam, in fact, he knows nothing of my history at all. I only know my history because my grandfather told me when I was your age. In fact, I wasn't sure if he was creating childish fantasies at the time, but despite that, I remembered all that he had told me about his father, your great-great-grandfather. And I never told you because I wasn't for sure. And if you never did turn out to be a witch, I would have disappointed you. You know, telling you all about this magical world that I wasn't even sure existed and then when you turned eleven and no letter come. That would have been heart-breaking."

She kissed me on my hair, and gathered up her purse and left. I stared after her. So many things were dancing in a crazed fury around my head at once. But they were all wonderful. Now, the only thing I had to worry about was what Dad and Paul would think. I knew Paul would except without question, him being at the age he was, but I wasn't sure about Dad. I mean, what if he grew angry at me for being what I was?

However, that thought was a silly one, even at the time I didn't think it was, because my father loved me. He would always. Or almost always.

* * *

Mom explained later that evening after we had a fine feast of vegetables and steak that had almost been forgotten in the kitchen in the living room. 

I watched Dad as he took the letter and read it out loud. His eyes widened, and he looked to Mom for an explanation.

Paul, his stuffed bunny "Rabby" in his little hands, sprang up from the carpet. "Yay for Sammy!" He shouted, throwing Rabby up into the air and catching him. He did a somersault and then zoomed toward the couch, where Mom was sitting along with Dad and me. He took Dad's green cap off, and stuffed Rabby into it.

He handed it to me, and said in an excited voice, "Miss Sammy Witch, make Rabby disappear."

I dumbly looked at the stuffed animal stuffed into the hat. I had no idea what to do. How could I know magic? I had never been taught.

Mom came to my rescue. "Little Paul, your sister Sammy can't do magic just yet. She must learn. That is why she will be leaving home soon and going to school, where she will learn how to do magic. Also, she isn't allowed to use magic here at home. It is against the rules. She must only use magic at school, and here only in emergencies."

"But it is a 'mergeny!" Paul said, taking back the hat and looking at the bunny that had not disappeared inside.

"Well, in about seven years, she will be able to do it for you, and, maybe even then, you might go to school and learn yourself."

Paul's sad face immediately broke into a cute, dimply smile. "Yeah! Only seven years!" He skipped around the room and tossed the hat back to Dad, all the while twirling with Rabby around the room. I just had to smile. Little kids can be so cute when they are happy.

Around eight, my mom sent Paul to bed, and I went up to my room, my letter clutched in my hand.

I was greeted by that wonderful attic scent that is just hard to place. It smelled a little like fresh breeze, wood, history, and watermelon. My favorite smell in the world.

The familiar sketches taped on the wall greeted me, and I smiled up and around at them.

I went over to my bed covered in a green sheet and laid down, staring up at the skylight.

The sun had just set, and the pretty blue slowly faded to an orange color and then disappeared beyond sight of the small skylight.

I breathed in that wonderful scent, and rolled to a sitting position and re-read my letter for about the twentieth time.

As my eyes read the words and my brain soaked them in, all I could feel was this feeling of euphoria.

I laid down on my bed again and put the letter on the dresser next to my picture of the Wood Family: My dad, mom, Paul, and me, all smiling and in black and white and in fancy clothes. It was taken only last year.

I was about ready to set my glasses aside and fall into happy slumbers when I heard a soft knock on the door. I knew it was Mother.

"Come in," I said softly, for I felt that such a moment should be quiet. To just savor the happy thoughts I had, and not have them ruined or broken by sounds. But I was happy to see and hear my mom. I knew her knowledge of magic was greater than mine. When she entered the room and gently closed the door behind her, I felt this vast amount of knowledge enter also.

She came and set at the edge of my bed, smiling at me. For a while we were both very silent.

After a while Mom said, "You know, Samantha J., I love you. So much. I will miss you so when you board that Hogwarts train and leave me for nine months. I will write, if I can find an owl, and you be sure to answer. Promise?"

"I promise."

Silence entered my room again, but this time I broke the silence.

"Mom, today has been one of, no, the best day of my life."

Mom smiled in her warm, soft way. She leaned down close to me and gave me a kiss. "I'm sure there will be even better days to come, Sammy."

"I know," I said, already imagining them at Hogwarts.

She gave me a pat on my head and silently left to room with a "good night, Sammy. I love you."

"Goodnight Mom. And I love you too."

And then I fell into wonderful dreams of flying on broomsticks, casting magic spells, and riding unicorns.

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Thanks for reading. Also, I love reviews. This is my first fan fiction, so I need 'em! 


	2. Note to Self: Clever Makes Tom Laugh

"I'm not so sure about this," I said, staring at the bricks before me, called platform nine and three quarters. It looked pretty solid to me.

"Go on, Sam, it will be fine. Remember to write to us every week, okay?"

I nodded weakly, and swallowed hard. Even after all I had seen at Diagon Alley (including strange foods, magic wands, moving pictures in books and posters and odd animals) I didn't trust this brick wall at all. I just knew I would make a fool of myself. I would run and then SPLAT! There I would be groaning and moaning on the floor as startled people stared down at me. I could already imagine the eyes.

"Hurry up, Samantha, or you will be late! The train leaves at eleven o'clock!" Dad said, glancing down at his watch. "It's already ten till. You better go fast and find a seat on that train before it leaves you behind. And if you get left behind…well, let's just say that you are fast approaching Algebra!"

That did it. "Love you guys!" I shouted, and began at a walk and then at a jog. As I was inches away from those bricks, I almost halted, but braved it and with a roaring in my ears burst through!

My eyes widened in surprise as I saw the scarlet steam engine ready to go and practically inches away from me. I had made it! I was on to Hogwarts!

Back at Diagon Alley, I had purchased a toad, and named it Clever. Why I named it that, I had no idea, because it was certainly _not_ clever. I mean, when I offered it some food, all it did was stare blankly at it and then turn its back. And when I put it in its little green cage, it started hopping like mad and croaking in a very strange way indeed. It was just like of me to buy the dumb one.

But as I boarded the train, carefully cradling Clever, I couldn't help but feel nervous. I mean, I was doing this all alone. No parents to help out on this one. No one to accompany me. What if something happened? What if I got hurt or something and my parents didn't know and waited all summer long for me to come home, all the while me at Hogwarts or wherever their hospital was? It was a frightening thought.

I shook my head. It was no good to think that way. Hogwarts was a great place, all would be fine. Nothing bad would happen. I hoped.

I had peered into all of the compartments, and almost all were full. And, if they did have room, the kids inside just peered at me with distaste and dislike. Obviously, first years were not well liked. Just like middle school. I sighed.

I finally reached the last compartment. There, sitting all alone and staring out the window at the waving parents, set a boy. He was slim and tall, and had nice, dark brown hair.

"Can I sit with you?" I asked nervously.

The boy slowly turned his head, and I inhaled deeply. He was so…cute. His hair was jet-black, not dark brown. His eyes were deep and penetrating. He had a long, pale, intelligent face. In it, I detected sadness and something else I could not place.

He examined me from top to bottom. "Who are you?" he asked me, somewhat in a demanding way that made me answer at once.

"Why, I'm Samantha Woods, but you can just call me Sam. I'm a first year. You too?"

He nodded slowly, eyeing me with distrust.

"Well," I said, after he turned away from me and resumed his staring out the window, "can I sit here?"

"Whatever," came his short and somewhat biting remark.

I came in and set directly across from him. He just continued staring out the window.

_Boy_, I thought, _this boy needs some cheering up_.

So, I did what any insane person would do: I plopped Clever down in his lap.

"That's Clever, my toad," I said, as I finally got his attention. "He likes to act funny, make weird noises, and change colors. I just got him at Diagon Alley. It's a nice place, that Diagon Alley, huh? Did you get an animal? And did you get a wand? I'm sure you did; its's required. Can I see it? See, here is my wand, twelve inches, oak, unicorn hair. You?"

I had asked him so many questions at once that I doubt he remembered them all, especially with a crazy, jumping Clever in his lap.

He picked up Clever and practically dumped him into my hands. "I don't trust anyone with my wand. And Diagon Alley is nice. And no, I didn't get a pet. I don't need one. And please don't stare at me like that!"

I realized that I had been staring at him, taking in his handsome features. "Err, sorry. It's just that you are rather cute."

He stared at me a while with a strange expression on his face. Finally he said, "Samantha, are you always so frank?"

"Why of course I am! And don't call me Samantha. I like just Sam. Which brings me to ask you what your name is."

His face soured. "I'm Tom Riddle, but I hate that stupid name and I plan to change it as soon as possible."

"How come Tom? I mean, I don't think Tom is a stupid name. "

"Why would I tell you…_Samantha_?"

"Oh. I see. Someone got up on the wrong side of bed," I said, as the train pulled out of the platform and began its long journey to Hogwarts.

"Will you just stop bothering me?!" Tom snarled.

But I didn't stop. I mean, what would it take to make this boy smile? "Well, Tom, I won't stop bothering you. I think you need a nap. Or a hug."

He shrunk back, and I laughed. "You are so funny Tom!"

"Yeah, whatever, Samantha."

"Hey! I told you my name was Sam! Please address me as such!"

"Well stop calling me that stupid name of Tom!"

"It's not stupid. It's a nice name. I'm sure your parents picked it out special for you."

"I live in an orphanage. My mom died, and I don't know about my father. He's probably a wizard though."

"Oh. Hey, I'm sorry. Is the orphanage nice?"

"I hate it."

"Oh."

We were silent for quite some time, until Clever made this weird croaking sound and I found that he had grown pink warts all over his back, and some were popping and goo was leaking out.

"Oh, disgusting!" We both yelled in unison. I quickly stuffed Clever back in his cage and out of site under my chair.

I looked up at Tom and noticed he had pink goo all over his robes. And so did I. I couldn't help but laugh.

As I laughed, I heard a strange bursting sound from under the chair, and before I knew it, more pink goo had splattered all over our compartment. I burst out laughing, staring at the goo-faced Tom, all the while wiping goo from my eyes. And before I knew it, Tom let out a brief quiet chuckle. When he realized what he did, he quickly turned away. But I had broken through. To get him to laugh, we all had to end up in this pink goo. But you had to admit, it was rather funny.

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Thanks for reading! Please review; this is my first fic and I need to know how I am doing! 


	3. The Song and the Sorting

It started raining as we departed the train to take the traditional boat ride across the lake. But I didn't mind. The rain was refreshing and helped me collect my thoughts.

Tom got off the train right after me, holding Clever in his cage. He seemed a bit attached to my crazy toad, but he pretended he wasn't.

We got into a rickety boat on the lake. It seemed like it would hardly support us, and when another kid got in, I feared it would topple over. However, I figured the boats were supported by magic and we had nothing to fear.

The other kid, a girl, had sandy colored hair piled up on her head in some kind of crazy style, but it was falling apart as the rain pounded down, splashing into the lake. She had bright green eyes and wore a seashell necklace. She smiled at me.

"What's your name?" I asked her as the boats took off.

"I'm Abby Jackson-Smith. Pleased to meet you." She held out her hand, and I shook it. Tom ignored her, and I shoved him with my elbow. "Hello," he grunted, shaking her hand.

"Nice fellow," Abby muttered to me, and I had to laugh. Tom glared at me, and I said, "Lighten up, Tom. You need to smile now and again. It's good for your health, I hear."

He merely grumbled and looked at the lake.

I turned back to Abby. "I'm Samantha Wood, and that's Tom Riddle. But I go by Sam and Tom hates his name so I guess you can just call him whatever else you want."

Abby laughed pleasantly, but didn't further address Tom. Instead, she said to me, "So, which house do you think you are going to get sorted in?"

"Well, my great-great-grandpa was Hufflepuff. My mom wants me to get in there. She never went to Hogwarts, the last person before me to go to Hogwarts was him. But from all she know, almost all my ancestors have been Hufflepuffs. Most likely, I will be one too. But I was secretly hoping that I would get put in Ravenclaw, you know, for the smart kids, to prove my dad that I _so_ do have brains!"

Abby laughed again. "Well, I hope I get into Ravenclaw, too. Both my parents were in Ravenclaw, and so were both of their parents. My room is already decorated in Ravenclaw things. I just know I'll get in there. But I so hope I do not get into Slytherin. That would ruin my whole year. In fact, if that hat did sort me into Slytherin, I would throw myself off the Astronomy Tower. No joke."

I wasn't sure if she was making a joke or not, so I turned to Tom. "How about Boy-Who-Doesn't-Like-His-Name? What house do you think you will get in?"

"I don't care. I just want to start learning magic. I can't wait to get back at those kids at the orphanage, no matter what the old man says."

We stared blankly at him. Obviously, we did not know what he was talking about.

"What old man?" I asked.

"What kids at the orphanage?" she asked.

"His name's Dumbledore and he's a teacher at the school. He came to me at the orphanage and talked to me personally!" Tom said, rather smugly in my opinion.

"But what kids?" Abby repeated.

Tom glared at her for a reason I couldn't decipher. "The kids that bully me. I can't wait to scare those pathetic kids with magic!" He said this _both _smugly_ and_ eagerly.

"I don't think hurting people is the way to go about things." I said, the peacemaker.

"Who said I would hurt them? I would just scare their stupid…"

But he was interrupted by a loud, "First-years this way!"

We climbed out of the boat on at a time and hurriedly made our way to the castle doors.

I couldn't wait to begin my year at Hogwarts!

As we were waiting to be admitted to the Great Hall to be sorted, I was rather fidgety. I mean, putting a hat on your head to read your thoughts, your personality? It was a bit frightening. What if the hat for some reason didn't think I was worthy of being a witch and I had to go back home and be content with doing Algebra for the rest of my life and becoming a first grade teacher?

But I knew that wouldn't happen. I had already done some witch-like things and I had gotten my letter.

I turned to Abby, whose eyes were bright and excited. Tom had the same aura of excitement. And then the doors opened, and we were admitted into the Great Hall.

It was the most amazing place I had seen! The Great Hall had a ceiling which reflected the stormy sky outside. Beautiful, shining candles just below it reflected off the glass and made it look as if fairies enchanted the ceiling as well. Four long tables filled with students faced a grand table at the front of the hall, which was filled with teachers of all shapes, ages, and sizes.

Millions of eyes (or so it seemed) turned to greet us first-years as we made our way down between the tables and gathered at the platform on which stood the table of the teachers.

On an old, wooden stool set the oldest hat I had ever seen. It was black and wrinkly and quite large, but I detected some sort of wisdom on it.

And then it burst into song before I could even collect my thoughts:

_"I may just look like an __ol__' sorting hat,_

_But let me assure you, I am much more than that,_

_Sit me on your head and I'll think away,_

_And I'll tell you what house you'll be in to stay,_

_Which house? You may ask,_

_Well, let me just answer that:_

_Oh, there's Hufflepuff, kind and dear,_

_Full of fun and cheer,_

_She'd take all the students she saw,_

_And clever, elegant Ravenclaw,_

_Intelligent was she,_

_Children of smarts of the wizard arts in Ravenclaw they'd be!_

_Gryffindor, so noble and brave,_

_Ready to fight a beast in a dark moldy cave,_

_Those just like him would be put in his house of course!_

_And __Slytherin, so sly and bright,_

_Always ready for fight not flight,_

_So you'll be put in Slytherin, children, if you're just like that!_

_And so concludes my description of the four from an old hat,_

_Slip me on your head and then I'll say:_

_What house you'll be in today!"_

All the students burst into an applause. It was rather an interesting experience. As the clapping came to an end, I looked over at Tom. He seemed to be just a fascinated as me, but there was this dark hunger in his eyes that frightened me.

A witch in long, flowing purple robes approached us holding a piece of parchment.

"When I call your name," she said in a croaky voice, "you will be selected into your houses."

"Abbott, Greg."

A scared looking boy approached the stool and put the hat over his ears. All was silent for a while until: "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Greg put the shouting hat down on the stool and went to join the Hufflepuffs, all of which were cheering loudly for him.

_That might soon be me_, I thought to myself.

After quite a bit of names and several "Hufflepuffs, Slytherins, Gryffindors, and Ravenclaws" later, it came Abby's turn.

She walked confidently up to the hat and jammed in on her head. Almost immediately it declared "RAVENCLAW!" and off she went with a big smile on her face.

After many more shouts from the hat, the witch croaked, "Riddle, Tom."

And Riddle, Tom approached the hat in an air of confidence I had only seen in Abby so far.

He slammed the hat on his head, and it completely covered his ears. It looked a bit comical to see a tall, skinny boy who never laughed with a hat covering his face. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

The hat almost immediately shouted "SLYTHERIN!"

Tom threw off the hat and smirked. He ran his way to the cheering Slytherin table. I was tempted to stick out my tongue at him. How very lady-like!

I was the last on the list. "Wood, Samantha!"

My knees shook slightly as I approached the stool, aware that the whole of the school had their eyes on me.

I sat myself down on the stool and slipped the hat over my head. It went dark.

I then heard a whisper in my ear that almost made me scream. I was not expecting the hat to speak to me!

"Ah, I see we have a brainy. Hmm, oh, yes, I detect great skills in you, young lady. Ravenclaw would be proud. Ah, but you are rather sly, aren't you? Slytherin loved those of a sly character. But then again, Hufflepuff suits you quite well…you're a very kind soul. And, oh, yes, you are indeed brave. A lady worthy of noble Gryffindor. Ah, what a difficult decision…."

"Err," I whispered to the hat, now knowing whether to speak out loud or in my head. "Can you please hurry? I'm feeling under the spotlight."

The hat chuckled softly. "Well, then, let it be….


	4. A Message from Dumbledore

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own the Harry Potter books.

Please read and review!

* * *

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat shouted it out loud, and I was so startled, I practically fell off the stool on which I was nervously perched. Besides Slytherin, Gryffindor was the one I least expected to be put in. Just goes to show how wrong I was!

I practically tumbled off the platform (which received a few polite chuckles from the kids in the front rows of the four tables) and went and sat by another kid that had just been sorted before me, Mark Wood. No relation to me, though.

"Wow. That was interesting!" Mark exclaimed as the witch with the croaky voice picked up the hat and stool and carried them away to who knows where.

"Yeah," I agreed weakly, still sick over the fact that I was called "sly" by the hat and it had told me I would do well in Slytherin.

"Are you alright?" Mark asked, looking at me.

"Fine," I lied and turned my attention away from his prying eyes to the big table at front.

A wizened looking man with a wisp of hair stood up from his chair at the center of the table and clapped his hands together for silence, which is exactly what he got. I knew at once that this man was the headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Welcome, everyone," he said in a weak sort of voice, "to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope you all spent your summers well enough. And greetings, first-years. You have just been sorted into your houses and will remain there for seven years, unless, of course, you fail a year or choose to what you kids call "drop out." But let's not have that happen. Hopefully this year will be one of learning and excitement. I, Headmaster Dippet, wish you all to do well."

He sat down and then immediately stood back up, his back popping loudly in the process. He coughed a few times and then said, "Oh, yes, of course. The Forbidden Forest you are to not enter under any circumstances. For dark things lie in wait there…."

A shiver seemed to ripple down the first years.

"But, on a happier and less dangerous note, I would like to say do not track mud on the floors, as our caretaker finds it difficult to clean up the mess even with a wand. And also, no midnight trips, meaning you are strictly to be in bed after hours, and not go sneaking around the school doing…things. And Quidditch tryouts will be held in two weeks time down at the Quidditch fields with Professor Newtal. Go to him for more information. That's all."

He sat down, and then just immediately sprang up again. "Dinner, everyone!" he shouted in the strongest voice he could manage, and then plopped down again, looking a bit exhausted after all of his up and down trips.

And then, his words came true. A magnitude of food appeared just like that on the table. I saw chicken and steak and fruits and pies and all sorts of stuff. It seemed as if every fine dining food existing was on this table. I dug in, my stomach growling for all the goodies.

I watched as Mark piled two steaks, a potato, two chicken legs, a corn cob or two, and some kind of pudding on his plate. I was surprised the plate held it all. But the question was: would Mark hold it all?

Yep, he did, he ate it all down to the last crumb. And then he ate two pieces of pie for dessert. What a chow hound!

But you had to admit, the food was good. The meat was grilled and seasoned to perfection. The pumpkin juice had just the right amount of spice and chill, and the big bowl of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans had just the right amount of good flavors to make you want to keep eating 'em, even if you _did _get the grass flavored one!

During our feasting, I glanced over to Tom. He was a bit hard to see over the many heads in the hall, but he being so tall, and me being so tall, I could see him.

He was sitting there daintily eating his food. The only thing on his place was bread and some soup. What was with this guy? Every else around me, including me, had all sorts of food items piled on their plates. Maybe he was just nervous about tomorrow, I reasoned.

I also noticed people seemed to be avoiding him. I mean, not like you would avoid a dangerous animal, but sort of like you wanted to avoid a roller coaster.

Like, for example, there you are at the amusement park, staring up at this gigantic machine that just makes you want to avoid it under all circumstances. But there is this sort of pull that makes you walk yourself up there and get a seat, and then ride up and down the coaster.

It was like that with Tom. He was feared, oh, yes, I could tell, but he was powerful, and people were dying to talk to him, connect with him.

But no one did anything. Tom must have been a very scary roller coaster.

And so I thought he needed company. That's why I went over there to sit with him. But I told Mark, the young man I was sitting next to, first.

"Hey, Mark, see that kid with the black hair over there with the Slytherins?" I said, pointing.

Mark reluctantly looked up from his food and followed my pointed finger. "Yeah, I see 'em. Hey, have you tried this strawberry crispy thing? It's delicious." And, as if to demonstrate how delicious it was, he held it out to me on his fork, and let me smell it. Then he put it in his mouth and smiled.

Finally he said, "What about that kid? He looks like a creep to me!"

"Mark! No he is not! He is just a little…eccentric! I sat with him on the train."

Mark looked at me and then laughed. "So that explains why you are so crazy!"

I gave him a glare. If only looks could kill!

"Fine then. Be that way. Don't see the good in people!" And away I marched to the Slytherin table.

I noticed several eyes on me as I made my way. Surely it wasn't against the rules to sit at another table, was it? Or did they consider it betrayal to your house?

But that didn't stop me. I was a Gryffindor! I could do these things!

I sat right down next to Tom, and it seemed as if the whole Great Hall went silent. Well, actually, it didn't, but the section at the table where Tom was sitting certainly did.

"What are you doing Samantha?" Tom hissed. His eyes looked dark and mysterious, and, I hate to admit, frightening.

"I just wanted to sit with you," I pouted, putting on a sad face and piling a spare plate full of orange slices to show that I was here it sit and stay. I begin eating away, all the while about twelve pairs of eyes on me.

Finally, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped. It was Professor Dippet!

"Pro, Professor, Dip, Dippet!" I stuttered. Now what had I gotten myself into?

"Miss Samantha Wood, I'm afraid that the sorting hat sorted you into Gryffindor, not Slytherin. You should go sit at your own table."

"But…but…Tom, he, Tom, my friend sits here, and I wanted, to, to, sit with him!"

"Ah, but, he is a Slytherin, you a Gryffindor. Now go sit at the correct table, or I will take points off Gryffindor."

I shoved my plate at Tom in my anger and practically yelled, "Whatever! Finish these oranges Tom! I don't want it to go to waste!" And away I marched to the Gryffindor table, my pride and heart hurt very much.

I realized that the wizened old professor followed me. And I felt guilty. But I knew where the hat was coming from when it said that I would do well in Slytherin. Maybe I should have stayed at the table of the Slytherins.

But I had been raised well, and when one of my rare outbursts occurred, I always apologized to my parents and then went into my attic room to "cool down."

I sighed and approached the professor who was still walking toward me quite slowly.

"I'm sorry sir, it's just that I have this sort of smoke inside, see, and when I get aggravated so, it just erupts and then I'm on fire. Luckily, my fire can be quenched. I'm so sorry. That was wrong of me to speak to you that way." I borrowed that fire and smoke idea from my dad, who usually explained my anger that way.

And I held out my hand for the old man to shake in a gesture of apology.

We shook on it, and Dippet smiled.

"Thank you, young lady for apologizing. Just don't let me find you at the Slytherin table at breakfast."

"How about at lunch?" I tried, but to no avail.

He just chuckled and said, "You are a Gryffindor. Show it. Prove it. Wear it. It's who you are." And away he went to the big table. He sat down next to that croaky-voiced witch and another man that greatly captured my attention.

I later learned that the man in flowing, blue robes with stars on them and a warm smile, twinkly eyes, half-moon spectacles, and an aura of intelligence and wisdom that I had never seen before was Albus Dumbledore.

And as I sat down that September day back in 1938 at my correct table, I'm almost positive that he winked at me. But I'm not for certain.

And then I dug into some Cauldron Cakes, which had just appeared for dessert.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please review! 


	5. Meeting Sir Cadogan

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own the Harry Potter world.

Notes: In this chapter, Sam meets Sir Cadogan, who Harry encountered in his third year. I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to review!

* * *

As the prefects led us away to our correct dormitories, I stared in awe at the wonderful castle that would be my home for almost ten months. It was simply amazing!

Paintings on the wall moved, some even moving from one picture to the other. I saw this lady in a pink and purple dress and gray wig follow my group of Gryffindors up the spiral staircase. Every once in a while she would pause and chat with some other painting, and then move along. When we finally turned a corner, she waved and sat down in a picture of a group of old-fashioned ladies at a party drinking what I suspected was pumpkin juice.

Then we approached a painting of a rather fat lady in an old fashioned dress. The picture was rather huge, and I suspected that this was more than a painting. I was right.

The prefect, whose name was Sally Cole, approached the Fat Lady and then turned to us.

"You can only enter the common room with the Gryffindor password, folks. Only Gryffindors will know this password; make sure you tell no one in any other house the password, it is a secret just between us." She narrowed her eyes at some blond-headed boy in front, then continued, "The password will change regularly; stay informed."

And then she turned and said in a loud, clear voice "Candy Apples," and the Fat Lady smiled and then the painting swung forth, revealing a passage.

It was into this we walked.

When we entered the Gryffindor common room, I already felt at home. The place was decorated in colors of scarlet and gold, the scarlet pleasant among the comfy chairs and fireplace, and the gold powerful and strong looking, declaring Gryffindor. The place had an air of coziness and hominess. It was quite nice.

After Sally the prefect showed us where are dorms were, she left and then we were free to do whatever. I chose to go to my dorm. It was up a spiral staircase, and up it I went. On the way there was a nice window that looked out onto the Hogwarts grounds.

The dormitories included five four-poster beds and some big, nice windows. I noticed my suitcases and things piled up near a bed with a croaking Clever perched on top.

I went over and took Clever out, rubbing him on his bumpy nose. He reminded me of Tom.

I really felt something for that young man. He was just so…different. I hoped we would get some classes together the next day and we could sit together.

I chose the bed next to the biggest window, and laid my suitcases on it. As I looked out the window, which peered down to the Forbidden Forest and some of the Quidditch grounds, I heard the door open, and a girl with long, black hair entered.

She paid me no attention and went over to the bed nearest mine and slammed down her trunks. Her owl, a handsome barn owl, hooted indignantly at her when she slammed down his cage too.

Then the girl sat down with a huff and kicked the nightstand.

"Err, hello." I said, going over to her.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Could you just leave me alone? I just had the worst day ever."

"Well, okay. I'm sorry. Would you mind to tell me what happened?"

Her eyes narrowed even more, so they looked like slits. "Who are you?" She completely ignored my question.

"Well, I'm Samantha Wood, but I go by Sam. What's your name?"

She sighed and said, "I'm Mary Johnson. And Mary Johnson already hates this place." She plopped down on the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling.

I decided to leave her alone. Putting Clever back in his cage, I departed the dormitory and went to the Gryffindor common room.

A bunch of students were standing and conversing near the fire. Some boy near the corner was doing this sort of trick with his wand that made it turn green and fuzzy, and the rest of the students were either relaxing on the comfy chairs or standing in small groups talking about their summer.

I felt a little lonely. I wondered if Tom felt lonely too. I wondered if I could go see him, but I remembered that I couldn't go to the Slytherin common room.

I sighed sadly and sat down in an empty chair. It was a bit boring, and now I was getting nervous about tomorrow. Would the classes be hard?

I stared into the fire, which made me feel warm and content. Before I knew it, despite the noise of all the other students in the room, I fell asleep.

* * *

"Wake up, Sam!"

Someone was shaking me awake.

I peered lazily at that person, who I discover was the Johnson girl, Mary, I think her name was.

"Mary?" I said confusedly.

Where was I? Why was I on a sofa near a fire? My room had neither of those things.

"How did you get in my room?" I said in a daze. I still hadn't woken up completely.

She rolled her eyes. "It's the Gryffindor common room, stupid."

"Oh," I said, and realization dawned on me. I was at Hogwarts.

"Did I fall asleep?" I asked rather stupidly.

"Well, of course! And it's like about two minutes before breakfast!"

"Ahh! I better get going!" I leapt off the sofa and ran to my dorm. I quickly took Clever off the mountain of trunks and opened one.

I quickly began getting a toothbrush and other morning things.

I noticed Mary followed me in. She laughed.

"I was going to get you up when I went down to the common room last night, but since everyone else was leaving you alone, I did also. And you sure are a snorer!"

I let out a fake laugh. "Yeah, but I better get going. When do classes begin?"

"Just after breakfast. But you better be in there. Dumbledore is handing out schedules."

"Eek! I'm going as fast as humanly possible!"

When I was finished, and looking still a bit sloppy, I followed Mary down the staircase and out into the common room.

When we came out, I looked around.

"Uh, Mary, I do believe I forgot which way the Great Hall was. Do you know?"

She laughed meanly and then rushed down the staircases without a backward glance. "Yep, I sure do!"

"Are you sure you were in the right common room, Mary? Are you sure you weren't supposed to be in the _Slytherin_ common room?"

She turned quickly and gave me a glare, and then continued running down the staircase, leaving me all alone and no idea which way to go, except in the general direction she went in.

My poor sense of direction often got me into trouble or scrapes. Often, when I would get lost, I could find someone to question for directions, but not this time. Every Gryffindor except me was down in the Great Hall.

I came to a passage. I looked down it. I didn't remember coming through this last night on the way to the Gryffindor common room.

Had I taken a wrong turn somewhere when I was thinking about my misfortune? I must have.

But I didn't feel like turning back. I reasoned I would just end up where I started anyways, or even farther from the Great Hall than I was now.

I began to walk down the passage, staring at the moving portraits and statues and windows that looked out to the Forbidden Forest.

I suddenly heard a voice and turned to see a painting of a silly-looking knight on a horse.

I looked closer at the moving painting. A short, squat knight was urging a brown horse to move, but the horse just stared lazily out at the green fields in the background.

"Onward, you great beast! Or I shall mangle you with this sword!"

He swished a sword around, and in the process, fell off the horse, which then trotted away.

"Are you quite alright?" I asked, approaching the painting. Could objects in paintings get hurt or broken?

He stared at me and then shouted, "Away ye! Who do you think you are, trespassing on my private lands? Come, now, fight with me!"

He drew his sword and brandished it at me. He looked rather funny.

His long sword soon got stuck in the wood of the oak tree next to him.

"Ah! You tree, think you can overcome Sir Cadogan?" He pushed and pulled at the sword, but it wouldn't come out.

He stopped for a while and huffed. Then he was at it again, all the while panting and shouting, "Ye tree shall never defeat I, Sir Cadogan!"

Finally, he pulled the sword loose and collapsed on the ground, staring up at the blue sky with lazy white clouds.

"Err, Sir…Cadogan?"

He lifted his head up to stare at me.

"I think I'm lost. I mean, really lost. I think I am even on the wrong floor, I dunno. I just want to find the Great Hall. Can you help me?"

"Why, indeed! An adventure! Let's go, and be sure not to get ourselves killed in the process. Onward!" And away he charged into a painting of a castle. I ran along with him. Occasionally, he would look back and shout, "Onward! This is a noble quest, and we must not perish!"

Finally, I came to a familiar looking staircase, and I was looking down at the entrance hall.

"Thanks a bunch!" I told the silly knight.

He had arrived in a painting of a witch stirring something in a large cauldron. He looked down into it and then fell in. A big bunch of lumpy, green particles slashed out, splattering the witch, who yelled, "That was my best group of fish scales in there!" She then ran out of the portrait, obviously to go tell her friends.

Sir Cadogan lifted his head out and grinned. "Ah, yes! But such noble quests can end in tragedy!" He looked at me and shouted, "If you ever require assistance again, call upon I, the noble and brave and handsome Sir Cadogan!" He climbed out of the cauldron and then ran off into a picture of what looked like a savannah. He watched a lion nervously and then dashed off shouting, "Farewell!"

I chuckled softly and then made my way down the stairs into the great hall. Luckily, schedules were just being handed out, and I was at the bottom of the list. I was very thankful for that.

I went and looked for Mark. He was with a group of four friends I figured were in his dormitory. I knew he wouldn't like me to intrude.

I found a large, empty section at the front of the table, closest to the teachers' table.

I piled some scrambled eggs and bacon on my plate and began to eat.

I looked around. Everyone else was sitting by friends. I was the only loner. I felt very embarrassed and lonely.

I ducked my head and pretended to be interested in my food, not caring if I had no one to sit next to and talk with.

Finally, a girl with humongous glasses and a flower in her hair approached me and sat down. She turned her head toward me and just stared. I felt as if she was reading my very soul. Her curly brown hair really seemed to bring out her bright green eyes, and it was with these that she stared at me, not blinking.

"Err, hello." I said, trying to distract her from her odd action.

She smiled and then shook hands with me. "Why hello! I'm Sarah Green! I saw you all lonely, so here I came, and here I am! Besides, the kids I was sitting with were acting like monkeys!"

"Oh, thanks. I'm Samantha Wood, but I go by Sam, and…" I trailed off, at a loss for words. Sarah was now arranging my scrambled eggs in the shape of a butterfly.

"There you go! Now eat up! We have a big day ahead of us!"


	6. The Dream

**I'm not sure if Slughorn taught Tom in his first year, but I have him teaching anyway. Also, I couldn't think of any other teachers besides ****Binns**** and Dumbledore that would have taught both Tom and Harry, so I just made the rest of the teachers up. Please enjoy and review! **

I looked down at my schedule. I had potions first along with Sarah.

"Who's the potions teacher?" I asked Sarah.

She shrugged and grabbed a jelly doughnut. "I'm not sure. Actually, the only teacher I know is Dumbledore and Dippet. Both of my parents are muggles, so it came as a sort of shock when I got the letter. How about you?"

I explained about my great-great-grandfather.

She nodded. "Well, at least you know who in your family was a wizard. I have no idea. I don't know much about my ancestors. I wonder if this school has records? Then maybe I could look up the Green family."

She chewed thoughtfully, and I left her to her thinking. I was now extremely nervous. I couldn't eat my butterfly-shaped scrambled eggs, no matter how delightful they looked in that creative shape.

I once again found myself thinking about Tom. I really hoped we could talk sometime. That boy really needed somebody, I knew. And I wanted to be that somebody.

The potions teacher was a walrus named Professor Slughorn. Well, not really, at least about the walrus part. But I thought he sure looked like one. He was a big, jovial sort of fellow, with a huge walrus-like mustache.

When we entered the potions room, which was gloomy itself, but also due to the fact that it was in the dungeons, he sat there smiling at his desk with some sort of fruit piled up in a bowl that he was snacking on, along with a huge goblet of something.

"Welcome, m'boys and girls! I'll introduce myself as Professor Slughorn, because that is exactly who I am."

I almost laughed out loud, but held it in.

"Now, everyone find yourself a seat, because in just a few minutes I'll begin our lesson for today!"

Everyone scrambled for a back seat. I noticed Tom sat near the front in the corner.

Sarah gave me a quick wave and went down to sit with her sister, Josephine, who also, I later knew, shared a dorm with me.

I went and sat next to Tom.

He gave me a look which clearly said, "Why in the world did you have to come and sit here? Couldn't you have found someplace else to sit?"

I gave him a friendly smile and said, "Well, hello again, Tom. I haven't seen you, or spoke to you rather, since the incident at the Slytherin table."

"Why ever did you do that anyway, Samantha?"

I laughed and replied, "I wanted to sit with you. You looked so lonely."

"I don't need anyone's company!" He said fiercely, and then turned to his potions book and began madly flipping through it.

I copied him for the fun of it. (Professor Slughorn at the time was too absorbed in a book he had in his hands to notice anything).

I madly flipped through the pages.

He slammed the book shut.

So did I.

He crossed his legs.

Me too.

He tapped his long fingers on the desk.

I also began tapping away.

He looked at the stones that made up the dungeon.

I looked at their grayness and dampness along with him.

He seemed to catch on just then and rolled his eyes.

I rolled mine.

He then gave me an evil glare.

I scrunched up my face and narrowed my eyes.

Finally he said quite loudly, "Will you please stop it!"

"Will you please stop it!" Came my reply. I was really enjoying myself.

"I mean it!"

"I mean it!"

"I'll tell the teacher!"

"I'll tell the teacher!"

"I really will, Samantha Wood!"

"I really will, Samantha Wood!"

He then tried a different tactic.

"I'm crazy!"

"I'm crazy!"

He gave an angry huff.

I huffed right along with him.

He crossed his arms.

So did I.

And we both glared up at the walrus.

Finally Professor Slughorn, who looked like the youngest teacher I had seen so far, clapped his hands happily together for attention.

"Now, class, I have already put your potion books on the tables. I want you all to turn to page one and read it, please. After every one is finished, we'll have a little discussion."

I looked at my old book and opened it, but I made sure Tom did first.

_Among all other __wizardy__ talents and techniques, potion making perhaps is the strength wizards should know most of all, besides simple defense__ spells__. Potion making is an ancient ritual which has been carried down __through __many generations of wizards and witches. Potion making can be __both __simple and difficult, all the time being a very delicate thing. __Greyson __Weque, the __renowned__ potion master of the twelfth century, introduced potion making as a both skill and to__ol in the __wizarding__ society. _

The page was written in small print, and the book was huge. I finally finished after a very confusing line and looked at Tom. He was already finished reading, and was reading page two. I looked around the classroom. Many students were still struggling with page one.

I then flipped to page two and pretended to read the boring text. Who cared about Greyson Weque anyway?

But despite the boring text, I felt a thrill. I was going to learn magic! Potion making, rather, but it all ran along the same clothes line.

I glanced at Tom.

He glanced at me.

We both glared.

He cleared his throat.

So did I.

He then flipped back to page one.

Me too.

He raised his hand.

I didn't do this one, though, because I didn't want to get into trouble.

Professor Slughorn looked up from his book at him, and then around at the other students, who were still reading.

He cleared his throat and asked, "What can I do for you, m'boy?"

"Well, sir, I don't exactly understand some of these concepts used in this book. On page two, it mentions potions should only be-"

He was interrupted by Slughorn who coughed and said, "Well, m'boy, I'll explain everything in about a minute when the other students are finished reading. That way you can all learn together."

Tom nodded and smiled smugly at me. I realized he did that just because he wanted me to stop copying him. I smiled at his brilliance.

"You're very clever, Tom," I whispered to him.

He just looked at me and turned his attention to Slughorn, who began to talk about the page we read and then a few simple potions. After that he introduced us to our lesson.

"Well, for starters, today I hoped we could all start out making a very simple potion. It is a potion that will cure the measles. The ingredients are on the board, the supplies you don't have in the cupboard, and if you have any questions, please raise your hand and I will come to you. You have forty minutes."

He sat back down and stared at us, and we all leaped into action. I took a cauldron and began chopping up the first ingredients. Tom had already started adding them to his cauldron.

After a while, Professor Slughorn said, "time's up!"

He then proceeded to check around the tables at our potions.

I peered into my cauldron. It almost was the correct color it needed to be, just a little off.

I then snuck a glance at Tom's. His was perfect.

He noticed me and smiled haughtily.

Professor Slughorn just shook his head at many of the cauldrons. A few times he offered words of praise like "Better than most."

Finally, he came to our table. He peered into mine and said, "Hmm. Perhaps the best I have seen yet."

And then he peered into Tom's. "Ah! Simply brilliant! Marvelous! I see we have a potion maker, here, right m'boy?"

Tom smiled, and Slughorn said, "Yep. Perfect, m'boy!" He took an empty glass bottle out of his cloak pocket and scooped some of Tom's potion into it.

"Perfect solution, boys and girls and whoever else listening. Tom here has made a very nice measle-curing potion indeed. I want you all to follow his example next time. So, hopefully, at the end of the year we will all be grand potion-makers."

He paused and put the bottle on the desk. "Ten points to Slytherin," he boomed, looking at Tom, who smiled.

My next class was History of Magic with Professor Binns. He was so old that I thought he would just drop dead…which he in fact did later in the year. But that is beside the point. He was also extremely boring. He just sat there at his desk and talked away about goblin wars and the history of trolls and Uric the Oddball. I copied down every boring fact, though. I wanted to do well, of course, while most of the class simply snored.

Charms was next up. The Professor was a tall, skinny man named Fro Alondi. He had consistent hiccups, and I thought a hiccup-curing potion would do him well. All through class he would let out a sporadic "hic!" When he was teaching us to levitate feathers, he did you-know-what right in the middle of the demonstration and lost his concentration, causing his wand to spiral out of control and the feather to turn into a chicken, which gave a loud "squawk!" and flapped out of the room. No one was able to catch if for the rest of the week, until Headmaster Dippet just gave up on it (stunning spells and other spells did no good on it; the chicken seemed to repel all of them) and let it wander about the school and eat the crumbs on the floor in the Great Hall.

I had Herbology three times a week with a strange teacher named Rose. She had us call her by her first name because, according to her, "Calling teachers by their last name is just too formal. I think we should all address one another by their first names and become very good friends."

She had a soft, wispy sort of voice that made you want to fall asleep. And she was always talking to her plants, even when they snapped at her. She stroked them and called them "her babies." When one clamped its long fangs around her arm, all she said was, "Bad boy! Now you let me go!" And slapped it gently where its nose would probably be.

Rose hardly ever taught us anything worthwhile. For example, take the first lesson for instance.

"Good afternoon, first years. I all welcome you to Greenhouse One. All year long we will plant, water, and grow plants. Just think of all the fun! Soon the plants will become you very own friends!"

The class stared at her, and Tom and I smirked at one another.

"Now, is everyone here?"

She looked around and began counting heads.

"Yes, it appears so. Now, everyone gather around. Today we will be planting the Rew Rose."

The Rew Rose was a gigantic rose that had thorns about an inch thick and five inches long. Occasionally, the rose would let out this sort of bellow, and a new thorn would grow. You had to be very careful where you put your hands.

Halfway through the lesson Sarah said "Ouch!" A drip of blood oozed out of her hand, and then it soon began bleeding profusely.

"Oh dear!" squeaked Rose.

She hurried over to the rose and slapped it with her glove. "Now look at what you have done, Rosey! Hurt this poor little girl! What will I ever do with you?"

And with that, she scooped it up and threw it in the wastebasket, where it groaned and then exploded.

She returned to her lesson with only these words, "Jo, please take your sister to the hospital wing. Tell Madam Fitwell that we had an upset rose."

Jo led a whimpering Sarah out.

As she went out, and Rose returned to the lesson, I heard a smirk beside me. It was Tom. And he was laughing.

I almost hit him. Why in the world would you ever laugh at someone if they got hurt?

I told him to shut up and returned to my rose, who bellowed and a thorn burst out where my hand had just been.

My favorite class was Transfiguration. And Dumbledore was easily my favorite teacher. When we entered the classroom, he said with a warm smile, "Find a seat, everyone, and I shall begin the lesson!"

I sat down next to Sarah and Josephine, because Tom wasn't in this class with me. Sarah had her hand wrapped up in bandages, and I could tell she was in pain, but she tried not to show it.

Dumbledore sat on his desk and his warm eyes twinkled. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, Transfiguration is both a complex and fun class. Transfiguration can pop up in everyday life. Why, just the other day I was in my office and I was served tomato soup for lunch. Now, I'm really not the tomato fan, so I simply muttered a simple spell and poof! There was my soup, now transformed into cream of mushroom, one of my personal favorites!"

He winked at us and continued. "Now, for starters, today we will transform a ruler into a yardstick, one of my personal muggle favorites!"

He waved his wand with a flourish and every student soon had a ruler on his or her desk.

He told us the spell to use and the correct wand movement, and then devoted the rest of the class period to changing the ruler into a yardstick.

At the end of the class, a few had managed to make their rulers taller, and I had managed to get my ruler to be thirty-two inches long.

Dumbledore had us take the rulers, so we could practice during the evening. "I expect to see twenty yardsticks tomorrow!" He called after us as we were leaving the classroom.

The last class I had that day was Defense Against the Dark Arts, taught by Professor Dandle. Dandle wore a strange shimmering green cloak, and had a high, coldish voice.

His first words when we entered the classroom were, "SIT DOWN NOW!"

I scrambled to a seat in the back row. I sure didn't want to be up close to this man.

The professor then went into a long, detailed speech about the Dark Arts, which I could tell by his speech fascinated him. He used words like "the dark and fascinating world of dark arts" and "the wonders of defense."

I saw Tom sitting near the front paying rapt attention. He was copying everything down in a notebook. I sighed and opened mine and began to write.

I had astronomy every Wednesday night up at the Astronomy Tower with Professor Night, a kind, gentle woman that loved the sky. Her class soon became my second favorite, after Transfiguration.

After the day finished, I was exhausted. I had gotten lost twice, ran into a trap door, found a passage which somehow emptied out in this empty classroom, and tried to catch the chicken.

When we got to our common room, I went straight up the staircase and fell into bed.

The black haired girl Mary soon entered, and Sarah and Josephine followed right after her. The final girl was a sweet African American named Summer that was rather smart. She came in last and then went over to her owl and stroked it gently.

I was too exhausted to care about Clever. I just fell asleep.

_I was walking along a dark passage. Occasionally, I felt __something slither on my bare fee__t and hiss. Suddenly, a light appeared way in the distance. As I approached it, the hissing grew louder. The light was coming from an open door, which spilled its light out on the dark, moldy stones, revealing thousands of snakes. I let out a quiet scream and ran to the door. I entered the bright room and slammed the door behind me. _

_The room was glowing with the light from a huge fireplace facing the door which I had just closed. On either side of the room, giant pictures of snakes hung. The snakes hissed at me, and then from the sofa came a soft, brief hiss._

_In front of the fire was the only piece of furniture, besides the dark green and silver rug which spread out on the floor. _

_I froze, and then slowly made my way to the sofa. _

_But before I could even look to see who was sitting there, the person got up._

_I screamed louder than I thought was possible. It was Tom, and he was covered in snakes. _

_They slithered through his robes__, around his arms, down his legs. They flicked their tongues and hissed in a threatening way at me._

_"Why__, hello, Samantha," Tom said in a cold, sharp voice that frightened me even more that the snakes._

_"Would you like to meet my little friends?" He asked softly, and then approached me. I noticed he had on his Slytherin robes, and no shoes. _

_He made his way through the snakes which now somehow populated the floor._

_He crossed the silver and green rug, and picked a snake off his shoulder._

_"Here,__ Samantha__"__ he whispered, holding the snake out to me._

_The snake hissed and its silvery-green body coiled. Its tongue flicked out, and then it sprang at me. I put my hand up to defend myself, and before I knew it, all the snak__es__ were on me, __muffling my screams, but not muffling the strange, insane laughter coming from Tom._

I woke up screaming.


	7. Letters from Home

**Do you think Tom is in-character? I mean, do you think he is acting himself? Does anyone have any suggestions? **

"Are you alright, Sam?"

Summer was shaking me by my shoulders.

I broke off in mid-scream. The dream had been so vivid. I had felt fear, heard the distinct hissing of the snakes, and felt the cruelty of Tom's voice. Never before had I had a dream that vivid or frightening.

"I'm fine," I told her. "Go back to bed. It was just a bad dream. I'm fine now," I lied, but I realized I felt sick and was shaking.

"Well, if you're sure," she trailed off, staring hard at me.

"Really," I insisted, "I'm fine."

She gazed at me intently and then went back to bed. The three other girls, Sarah, Josephine, and Mary, all stared a while longer and then turned over. Soon, I heard snoring coming from their beds. Summer's was silent for a while, and then I heard her gentle breathing.

I gazed out the window. A pale green glow was coming over the grounds. I saw a few dim stars still trying their best to shine in the dull morning light.

I gave a sigh, and knowing that I would never get back to sleep, got up to welcome the day.

I was one of the first students in the Great Hall, besides Tom, who was sitting there staring out the window.

I ignored him when he turned to me and sat down at the front of the table. I loaded my plate, and began to eat.

Slowly, the Great Hall filled up, and the silence which had occupied it now became more like a roar of voices. I put my head down on the table and sighed.

Sarah and Josephine came in, and Sarah gave her sister a wave when she went and sat with her friends, and then proceeded over to me.

I noticed she was not wincing any longer. I guess I had been too tired to realize that last night, also.

"How is your hand?" I asked her, when she sat down next to me.

"Better," she replied, biting into some bacon. "Madam Fitwell poured some oozy stuff on it when I went back there telling her it still hurt, and then in just a few minutes it felt fine. That lady is a good nurse."

I nodded absentmindedly. I was thinking about my dream. I was thinking about Tom. For some reason, I couldn't get him out of my mind, even in my dreams. But the more I thought about him, the more I was scared of him.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the flapping of wings. Instinctively, I looked up, and there were the owls. I had missed them yesterday because I had gotten lost and arrived in the Great Hall late.

About a hundred owls streamed into the Great Hall, each carrying some sort of parcel for a student. I watched a tiny owl deliver Sarah a small envelope. "There you go, Fido," she said, handing her owl named a dog's name a piece of bacon.

Fido fluffed his feathers and then departed in a show of wings.

Before I could ask Sarah anymore about her owl, a Great Horned Owl flew down right next to me, holding an envelope in its beak.

I took the envelope and proceeded to open it. The owl just stood there staring at me and the food and I soon figured that it was hungry.

"Here you go, owl, "I said, copying Sarah and giving it some bacon. It then dipped its head in my goblet and drank up some water and departed.

"What's your owl's name?" Sarah asked, finished reading her letter and folding it up and putting it in her pocket.

"I'm not sure. My mom must have somehow gotten it," I answered, and she nodded and returned to her breakfast.

I was eager to read what my mom had to say so I quickly opened up the envelope and two pieces of paper tumbled out along with something wrapped in a handkerchief.

I picked up a letter with my mom's handwriting on it.

_Dear Sam,_

_I miss you so! Even though I last saw you a few days ago, I feel as if a part of me is missing. __Please be sure to come home over Christmas and write at least once a week. My first grade class is a rambunctious one, and I am finding it hard to keep them under control. And speaking of school, how is yours coming? Have you met any friends? Are the classes difficult? And are you in Hufflepuff, or some other house? Please reply back soon, I am dying to know, Sam! Oh, and your brother sent you a picture. He is missing you as much as me, along with your father, who is working odd shifts at the factory. I miss you and love you, my Sam!__ And I'm expecting the baby in late September!__ From the lady that misses you with all her heart,_

_Mother_

I promised myself I would get started on a letter this evening if my professors did not give out too many lessons.

I opened the other piece of paper and looked at my brother's drawing. For a five-year old, it was pretty good. It was a simple, crayon drawing of me flying on a broomstick holding a wand. In the background I saw a unicorn prancing.

I gazed at my brother's messy signature sadly for a while, and then turned to the wrapped up object. A simple note was taped on it:

_Thought you would__ want this_

I tucked the handkerchief down deep in my robes. It was made by my mother, I knew, judging by the patterns of brooms, wands, and cauldrons on its green background.

I looked at the object that was now uncovered in my hand.

It was a picture of us: my mom, dad, and brother, which had once been in my room.

I stared at it a while and then tucked it into my robes along with my handkerchief. I felt a bit like I was carrying my family with me in my pocket.

I was afraid to sit by Tom in potions that morning. But I reluctantly went and sat where we sat yesterday near the front in the corner.

I sat down my books at pretended he wasn't there.

Tom noticed my discomfort, and asked, "What's wrong with you?"

I stared into those eyes of his. They were brilliant, clever eyes, but also frightening and commanding.

But I told Tom the truth. I had to do it.

"Well, last night, I had a dream. In this dream, I was walking down a passage with snakes. And then there was this room at the end of it. And you were in there sitting at the sofa near the fire. And when you got up, there were these snakes. I mean, there were snakes all over you, covering you. And you appeared to be in control of them. And then you advanced toward me, and told me they were your friends. The snakes, I mean. And then this snake jumped off you onto me, and then they were all on me. And I couldn't see or breathe. And the whole time you…you…you were laughing, Tom. You were laughing."

He stared at me. I looked into his eyes for a clue, any clue that might tell me what he was feeling, but I could see nothing.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Professor Slughorn interrupted in his jovial voice, "Welcome boys and girls! Today I am going to talk about the ingredients in potions. I all suggest you write this down. I'll put it all the board so you can copy it down."

He began speaking about the importance of ingredients. Precision was the key, he said, staring at all of us. He flourished his wand and words appeared on the chalkboard, which we instantaneously copied down in our notebooks.

His lesson took up the whole class, and by the time he was finished, I sure knew about ingredients and how to add them and where many popular ones come from. However, I didn't know much about Tom. We never got the chance in that class to discuss my dream.

The chance arose again in Herbology. As Rose droned on about Rew Roses and how often to water them, I asked him what he thought.

"About what?" He asked, pretending to pay close attention to Rose's words.

"You know what, Tom! I had that dream, and it rather bothered me."

"Well, sometimes dreams are rather strange," was all he said, giving me a look which said he was not interested in this topic we were discussing.

After a few more wounds and hospital trips later from other students, Rose released the class, loud bellowing from the Rew Roses emitting from the classroom.

On my way to Transfiguration, I realized that I completely forgot about that ruler into a yardstick thing. I dropped my satchel to the floor and looked through it. There it was!

I took out my ruler and quickly muttered my spell. _Please work_, I thought frantically. I didn't want to get bad marks my first day.

However, my worries were unnecessary. The almost-yard stick became a yard stick, and I went happily to Transfiguration.

I avoided Tom in D.A.D.A. class, and instead paid attention to the creepy teacher. At the end of the class, we were assigned a 12 inch paper about a notorious wizard that specialized in the dark arts centuries ago, a man named Addewotdf. Or something like that.

_Dear Mother,_

_I'm at Hogwarts, and I am doing well and fine. The train trip was great, and I met a boy named Tom Riddle that is rather cute. The__n__, we took the traditional boat ride across the lake just when it began to rain, and when we entered the building, we sure were dripping! But I couldn't think about being wet. All I could think about was which house I would be sorted into. I had the feeling either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, but I wrong! Yes, I am a Gryffindor! Tom was sorted into Slytherin. After that, we went to the Gryffindor common room, where I fell asleep. Sorry about that Mother, but I was tired! And don't worry, someone woke me up, but when I came out of the common room, I forgot which direction the Great Hal__l was in,__ which is where we were sorted and eat (I don't know if great-great-grandpa told you that). But I had the help of a figure in a painting calling __himself__ Sir Cadogan. As I'm sure you know, the paintings move, and he led me the way to the Great Hall, and I arrived just in time to get my schedule. I __also met a girl named Sarah who I think I have become friends with. Then I went to my classes. I don't have the same classes every day, but I take all these: Potions, History of Magic, Charms, Herbology, Transfiguration, Defense __Against__ the Dark Arts, and Astronomy. Also, I will soon be learning how to ride a broom! My teachers are okay, but I have some odd ones. But don't worry, I am getting properly taught. I have already made a potion that cured measles and transformed a ruler into a yardstick. It was quite fun! I miss you. I miss my brother Paul too. Tell him that I loved his picture and that I think of him every day. I love you! I'll see you at Christmas!__ And one question: What is that owl's name you sent and how did you get him? And thanks so mu__ch for the photograph. I put it on my dresser near__ my bed._

_Sam _

I watched as the school owl I borrowed flew out of the window of the Owlery into the sky filled with colors of the sunset. The gray owl swooped over the castle and then disappeared behind the forest, the evening colors flashing in its wings.

I sighed and made my way back down to the castle.

Little did I know who I would meet on the way.


	8. Talking to Tom

As I was on my way back to the Gryffindor tower, where I had to finish my D.A.D.A. essay, I stopped by a restroom.

When I came out, my only thought was _now, which way did I come into this restroom? _

I exited the restroom and then faced the door. My heart thudded as I realized I couldn't remember which way I came through!

I felt extremely silly that I didn't pay any attention, but I had had a lot on my mind, mostly about Tom.

I sighed. I sure didn't want to get caught out of bed afterhours. I had already known a first year Hufflepuff that had gotten caught out of bed when he had gotten lost, and had to serve a weeks-worth of detentions. Of course, he had gotten caught by Professor Dandle, the D.A.D.A. teacher.

I chose to go left, because that way looked the most familiar.

As I was passing an empty classroom across from a huge window looking out at the lake, I heard a bunch of racket coming from it. It sounded as if pots and pans were banging around in there. It soon got louder, and the sound practically filled the hall.

Not wanting to get caught, but even more curious, I peeked in the slightly open door.

There was Peeves the Poltergeist, banging pots and pans from the kitchens on the chalkboards and desks. Occasionally, he would toss one up in the air and let it clatter to the ground.

I got out of there as fast as possible. I had the feeling he would soon be drawing attention, and it was about thirty seconds to the afterhours bell.

As I just got out of the hall, it rang, and I knew I mustn't get caught.

I turned right and found myself looking up a long staircase that I didn't recognize.

Might as well, I thought to myself, and proceeded to make my way up it.

On the way there, I stepped on a trick stair, one of those stairs that was pretending to be a stair but really was just thin air.

My leg got stuck in the hole and my satchel rolled down the stairs and landed with a dull thud at the bottom. Now I was in for it.

I tried my best to get unstuck, but nothing worked. I would need someone to pull me out.

I wished I had a wall to bang my head against.

Quite suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching from the blackness at the bottom of the stairs. What if it was the old grouch Dandle? I figured the other teachers might let it go, but I knew with my luck, it would be Dandle.

But I was wrong. A black-haired somebody slowing came out of the darkness like the moon out of some clouds at night.

It was Tom Riddle, and I had never been so happy to see him.

"Hey Tom! Could you give me a hand?"

He sniggered at me and climbed up the stairs.

At the stair just below mine, he paused and simply stared down at me.

"What were you doing out so late?" He asked with humor in his voice, but I detected no Slughorn tone to it.

"Well, I had to deliver a letter to my mom, so I went up to the Owlery, and then I came down, and went to the restroom, and then I got lost, and then I got stuck in this trick step. Could you get me out, please? And you know, you could get caught, too, if you don't hurry."

"I could just leave you here, rather," he said.

I gave him a pleading look. "Please don't Tom! I don't want to get a detention. Please!" I looked up at him with sad puppy eyes.

He gave a sigh and reached down to take my arm. "You should thank me for this," he told me, and then with a gentle yank, he pulled me out, but then lost his balance, and before we knew it, we were both tumbling down the stairs.

"Ouch!" I squealed, as we landed in a heap at the bottom, me on top of him.

My face reddened and I quickly got off. "Sorry," I muttered, my cheeks tomato red.

He just got up and brushed of his robes. "Was that a way to repay me?" He asked, but this time I detected a hint of a joke in his voice.

This made me smile. "Sorry, it wasn't. But maybe I can repay you later for all that trouble. Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, I didn't. Did you?" I couldn't tell if he was really concerned or just asking to be polite.

"I'm fine, thanks, but we'd better get going. A teacher may have heard us."

He nodded, scooped up my satchel and handed it to me.

"Thanks," I said.

We stared at each other, and then made our way up the stairs.

"You don't happen to know which way the Gryffindor common room is, do you Tom?"

He grinned. "Actually, I do."

I was confused. "How do you know? You shouldn't."

"Well, I have already familiarized myself with the greater part of the castle. I just happened to see a Gryffindor go into it one day, some girl named Sarah I think."

"Well, you'd better be careful familiarizing yourself. Why would you want to do that?"

"I dunno. Out of boredom, I suppose. I'm rather good at not getting caught, and there are a vast number of secret passages and shortcuts I have discovered."

"When do you do all this exploring?" I asked slowly and suspiciously.

"Between classes. After classes. During dinner. After hours. Whenever I feel like it really." He gave me a smug look.

I gave him a wide-eyed stare. "You'd better not make a fool out of yourself Tom and get caught."

"I won't. I know what I am doing. And besides, I know how to make people..." He trailed off.

"Make people what?" I asked curiously.

"Uh, well, at the orphanage, when people hurt me, I could hurt them back. I knew how to make people go funny and forget things."

I felt sick to my stomach. "And did you ever do it Tom?" I asked in a sad soft whisper.

He didn't answer, and I knew he had.

"Why Tom? Why did you do it? That's wrong." I practically cried out.

"Shut up!" He commanded, and then grabbed me by the wrist and led me behind some sort of tapestry showing a hippogriff in the woods. He then led me down a hall lit with torches.

We ended up in a huge room that was mostly windows. But it did have soft cushiony yellow and green sofas.

The windows at the moment were covered with sky blue curtains, and Tom waved his wand in some kind of intricate motion and they rose, revealing a beautiful view of the moon shining on the Forbidden Forest. The beautiful lake could also be seen, with the surrounding mountains stretching their peaks up to the full moon.

It was a superb view, and for a moment, I forgot myself.

But then I came back to the real world, and there I was in this room all alone with someone I now knew to be quite dangerous at such a young age.

"Tom?" I questioned.

He had his back to me and was looking out at the view.

For a while, we just stood like that, me with that question in my mind and him looking out the window.

Finally, when I felt I would have to speak up again, he turned.

"I hate them at the orphanage, Samantha. They always pick on me and hurt be, because I was different. So I gave them what they deserved." He said this with no remorse.

I didn't know what to say. I had never found myself in such a difficult situation. This went through my mind: _So, I'm in this strange room that I have a __feeling not many know abou__t. __W__ith Tom.__Tom that hurts people.__Tom that doesn't feel remorse.__Tom that I have no idea what he is going to do with me._

He just stared at me and said, "Just don't talk to me about this anymore, okay?"

I nodded weakly. I knew he wouldn't let me get any more words in.

"Uh, Tom, what is this room?" I asked instead.

"I'm not sure. I just found it. But see that door over there?" He pointed and I noticed a short door that was built just beside the one we came in. I nodded to show I saw it.

"Well, before you enter it, say where you want to go, and then you open the door, walk a bit, and then you'll come out the nearest passage to the place you want to go. Of course, you can't go everywhere. I tried to go to Dippet's office once, but it just emptied me out in the stall of the bathroom closest to his office. It just randomly dumps you somewhere. So you have to be quite careful. You don't want to land on somebody. That's why I mostly come to this room at night, when not many are out."

I nodded again and walked over. "So, just say where you want to go?" I asked him, staring at the door in a not-so-sure way.

"Yes," came his soft reply.

"Gryffindor common room," I said, and opened the door with a backward glance at Tom. He nodded, and I closed the door behind me.

The passage was a bit of an upward slope, and very tight. I felt my shoulder brush against something that was probably cobwebs. I soon banged into something, and I knew when I felt some sort of knob that I had arrived at a door.

I opened it very slowly and carefully, and before I could even see where it led, I felt as if a strong gust of wind had came up, and then I felt myself tilting over in the gale, and out I fell.

I landed right in front of the Fat Lady, who looked at me like I was an alien that had dropped out of the sky and was going to abduct her.

She stared at me and said, "Where did you come from, young lady?"

"Uh…" I stumbled for some words. "Well, you see, I was walking along a passage, and I heard this noise, and I went to investigate, and…and there were a group of aliens conversing in the Charms room, and then they saw me, and then they took me on their ship, but it got stuck in a tree, and I fell out the window, and then I burst through the ceiling and landed here!" I knew it was stupid, but it was the best I could do at such a time.

"Hmm, I don't like your tone," she gave me as a reply. "What were you really doing?"

I decided I would have to tell her the truth, or at least some of it.

"Well, I went to the Owlery to give a message to an owl, and then on my way back there was a trick stair, and I fell into it. I knew that the afterhours bell had rang, so I hurried and finally got out, but I then lost my balance, and I fell down the staircase. And I fell into this sort of classroom, and Peeves the Poltergeist was there, and he shoved me into this cupboard sort of thing, and then I found myself here. That's all."

She gave a "humph", and asked "Password?"

I had a feeling it had been changed that very evening. "Candy apples?" I tried weakly.

She shook her hand. "No, that is not the correct password. I guess you will have to sit out here all night long."

"Well, I guess you and I could chat," I said, desperately hoping that she would want to sleep and would just let me in. I was right.

"Well, err, since I know you are a Gryffindor, and under the special circumstances, I guess, well, I suppose, I mean, the password is "Fiddlefrums."

"Fiddlefrums!" I said brightly, and she gave a loud sigh and let me in.

I entered the common room. Not many were in there. Only Sarah and Summer, my other dormitory member were there along with some sixth year I didn't know sitting in a corner muttering over his D.A.D.A. homework.

Sarah gave me a wide stare with her already wide eyes. She reminded me a bit of an owl.

Summer looked up at me with almost equally wide ones.

"Where have you been?" My two friends asked concurrently.

"I got lost on my way from the Owlery to here," came my short, brief reply.

They looked as if they would interrogate me further, so I added, "Well, I also stepped on one of those pestiferous trick steps, and then I got stuck. And it took me a while to get out, but luckily, I found my way back and only met up with Peeves."

They seemed to except my explanation. I realized that word had already gotten around to the Gryffindors of Mary's mean trick; everyone knew how easily I got lost.

The three of us headed up to the dormitory leaving a very flustered sixth year behind.

I came up to my bed and collapsed on it and quickly finished my D.A.D.A. homework, muttering over the difficult words in the text book I had set upon my lap. I had reached eleven inches of parchment, and I had nothing else to say for the rest, so I just filled it up with what Dandle liked best: praising the Dark Arts. I felt a bit disgusted with myself, but on the bright side I might just get a passing grade.

I put the work up and knelt down to the floor and picked up Clever's cage. He croaked loudly but didn't move.

I pulled Clever's cage up on my stomach and peered in at him.

He gave a croak and then went over and nudged the side of the glass.

I smiled and turned the little handle to let him out.

Giving another croak, he happily hopped out and landed on my palm. I emptied the water from my glass on the nightstand next to my bed into his water bowl, and then set his cage down on the floor.

I rubbed my index finger along his rough green back, smiling to myself.

After a while he got a bit restless and jumped out of my hands and onto the floor.

"Clever, come back here!" I whispered, and reached out to grab him. But I didn't get him. Just as my fingers almost touched him, he gave a mighty leap and landed on Mary's bed.

"No! Clever get down!" I said, as if I were talking to a dog.

But, as he wasn't a dog, he paid me no heed and jumped onto the lump under the red and gold covers that was Mary.

Then he just sat there.

I was very afraid Mary would wake up and then have another one of her bad days, so I very carefully made my way over to her and tried to capture the pesky toad.

But Clever avoided me once again and hopped down her back and onto her head. I heard a muffled scream, and before I knew it, Mary rose up faster than anything I had ever seen in my life and Clever was sailing through the air. He landed on a beam near the ceiling, and sat there, croaking, seeming as if he was happy that he got me into trouble. Some toad.

Mary saw me standing there looking guilty. "Why ever did you put that thing on my head?" She shrieked quite insanely.

"It was just a toad," I said nonchalantly. I was really starting to hate this girl. Maybe I could talk to Dippet and get her transferred to Slytherin. I smiled at the thought.

She glared at me and then hissed, "Well, don't you even consider bringing him over to me again. If you do, I'll through him off the Astronomy Tower, and I mean it!" And with that, she put the covers over her head and turned her back to me.

I sighed, and got a footstool to get Clever, who was still croaking on the beam.

"You know, toad," I said, as I grabbed him and held him securely to my chest, and went to put the footstool away in its corner, "You can be a lot of trouble, but you also come in handy in many occasions. With Tom for instance. And with Mary, because I have been dying to get back at her ever since that day she left me. I think you really gave her a fright!"

Clever just croaked, and I put him up in his glass cage and then turned my lamp off. It had been a strange day, I thought to myself.

I closed my eyes and thought about Tom. Why had he brought me into that room? I knew that he didn't consider me a friend; he had no friends, at least none that I was aware of. He hated everyone, it seemed, and didn't care about anyone but himself. So why did he take me into that strange room? Why did he even show me it? He didn't care about me at all. Or did he? Did he, after so many at the orphanage, need someone to like him? Care about him? Did he just want a friend that cared? Probably not.

But maybe, I thought, he was planning to do something. Was he planning to practice his spells on me? Would he have hurt me? Is he planning to get close to me and then do something horrible? I shivered under my covers. But I had to trust him. I just had to.


	9. A Dose of Vespertilian Equals Luck

_I was in __Slughorn's__ classroom adding lacewing flies to some potion or other. The kids around me were strangely silent, and Slughorn was nowhere to be seen._

_An eerie green light invaded t__he whole room, and the dungeon __smelled of dust and mold. I turned my head and watched the other students in a rhythm stir their potions. Their hands added the correct ingredients all at the same __time;__ they all stirred the potions in the same way, none be__hind one another or before._

_Tom sat next to me, but was doing nothing, just simply staring before him, as__ if there was something fascinating and invisible to all but him._

_I fiddled with the __cover __on my potions book, feeling for some reason very nervous._

_Suddenly, the door at the back slammed open, and in strode my brother Paul. He was carrying his rabbit lik__e usual, but there was this look__ in his eyes that frightened me greatly._

_All the heads in the class except Tom's turned to watch my brother come up the aisle between the desks, dragging __Rabby__ on the ground along with him. He walked just like someone in a trance__, and finally he reached my desk. He held__ out his stuffed rabbit to me._

_"Here, Samantha," he said in a trance-like voice that scared me, dumping __Rabby__ into my arms. __He then proceeded over to Tom, who then took his attention off whatever he had been staring at in the distance and turned to my brother._

_Tom suddenly rose out of his chair and all eyes followed him as he took my brother by the wrist and down the aisle, heading to the door._

_"Stop Tom!"__ I screamed for a reason unknown, not even knowing what Tom would do with him._

_In my haste to follow the two out of the creepy classroom, I knocked over my cauldron, which spilled all over the floor, and then ov__er to the feet of my classmates. __Rabby__ fell out of my arms into the goo and was soon covered up in it, his long bunny ears drooping with the stuff. _

_The potion seemed to __raise__ higher up, as if more and more was being added to it, and I was powerless to stop it. I watched as the potion rose to my classm__ate's knees and they just sa__t there s__tirring their potions in a daze. I watched as__ my brother and Tom quickly exited the classroom._

_I trudged through the potion as fast as possible, but it kept rising and was soon to my waist. I felt as if I was moving thr__ough peanut butter__that was slowly __filling up the room._

_Suddenly, Professor Dandle burst through the open door Tom and Paul had just exited, and waved his wand at my potion, and it immediately disappeared._

_He stuck his wand in his pocket and proceeded to the other students and then__ began looking at their potions, not even paying attention to me._

_I ran out of the classroom as fast as __my legs would carry me._

_Tom and Paul were many yards in front of me, walking down a blood red passage lit with glowing cauldrons overflowing __with my __potion. It was like walking down an aisle filled with cauldrons. _

_I raced after them, but then they disappeared around a corner. I heard two dull thuds e__choing from wherever they went. I ran even faster, if that was possible._

_When I rounded the bend with nothing in my head but to save my brother, __I stop__ped suddenly. The hallway ended __in a jagged __platform that__ stood before a dark nothingness. I stared down at the dark, and before I could even decide what to do, I heard someone from behind approach me and shove me in. _

_I was a screaming mess as I fell, but faster than I __thought__ I landed on solid ground. I was in another dark passage, and saw just at the end of it a pale light. My footsteps echoed in the darkness as I headed toward the light. I came out on the Hogwarts grounds and looked around. _

_I was outsid__e near the Forbidden Forest, close to__ the dark __lake. There was__ no moon to shine on it tonight; the only light a pale green glow coming from the woods_

_I saw Tom and Paul enter the woods, Tom still gripping __my brother's wrist. _

_I followed after them, my heart thudding hard in my chest. I had a bad feeling entering the woods at this time of hour._

_I followed them through the vast number__ of thickly packed dark trunks __and tall weeds and large, prickly bushes__. I was __barely able to see them now. I basically had to follow just by hearing their footsteps crackle though the brush and dead leaves__. The pale green glow was no help; it was simply…just there. I couldn't see through it, and neither would it let me see which way I was going. _

_Suddenly, we were in a meadow, and Tom brought Paul to the very middle of it.__ The meadow was covered in that pale green glow, which I realized was just fog. But I had never seen this kind of fog. It was cold and thick and strange-smelling._

_Paul suddenly turned and saw me, and uttered a silent scream. He was no longer in a trance; his eyes__ were bright__ and frightened._

_I watched slowly as Tom drew out his long, th__in wand from deep in his robes __and pointed it at my brother. _

_His eyes narrowed in hatred and excitement as he held his wand to my brother's chest. Paul was breathing fast __and __hard and was looking at me in fear. But I was frozen. My limbs wouldn't allow me to move. I knew what __was going to __happen._

_I covered my ears as Tom said in a loud voice that invaded my ears, "__Avada __Kedrava__!"_

_I saw__ my brother fall, and then I begin to scream as Tom turned to me. _

I woke up screaming for the second time that week.

Summer was shaking my shoulders and peering at me with concern in the dark dormitory.

"Sam! Sam! Are you alright?" Her voice was rushed and her breathing panicked.

"I don't know!" I shouted, and peered around in the dark. I felt secure and safe knowing it was just a dream. But the dream was as real as life. Real enough to make me scream out loud.

The other three girls all stared at me in concern, even Mary, whose eyes were wide.

"Why were you screaming so?" asked Josephine, getting out of her bed and handing my water glass to me.

I took a grateful drink and just said, "It was just a dream. Don't worry about it."

They all stared at me suspiciously, and I said angrily, "Please just leave me alone! It was just a dream! Nothing to get worked up about!"

"But you were sure worked up about it," Mary volunteered, narrowing her eyes.

I shrugged and rolled over in my bed. "Just go back to sleep everyone," I muttered loudly.

I heard the shuffling of two pairs of feet and then the rustling of covers. It was silent for the rest of the night.

The next day at breakfast I almost fell asleep in my strawberries and cream, one of my favorite breakfast dishes at Hogwarts. I had had an awful night, and I knew the others had had one with me.

Summer and Sarah were sitting near me and could barely pay attention to Dippet's speech about Quidditch tryouts.

I sighed and laid my head down, resting my eyes, knowing that I would have to go through this for the rest of the day. How I wished it was a weekend!

During potions, I woke up almost completely when Slughorn told us something that sparked my interest.

He had a cauldron on his desk, and he was standing near it.

"Now, m'boys and girls, here in this cauldron I have a little something that I thought might capture your interest."

He had the class come up in groups to peer into the cauldron. When it was my turn, I went up and stared confusedly at the splashing about potion. It had a golden color to it, and large droplets of the gold were plopping about on the surface in a sort of way that I didn't find sinister at all.

When everyone had peered in at the gold stuff, Slughorn faced the front of the class and puffed out his chest.

"Well, I don't expect any one of you to know what's in here, but-"

Tom had his hand in the air, and Slughorn smiled and said, "Oho! Yes, Tom? Do you know what this marvelous potion I conducted is?"

"Yes, I do believe I do, sir. It's Felix Felicis."

"Ah! You are most certainly correct! Yes, this potion here is what is called Felix Felicis, and it is a luck potion."

A girl in the back raised her hand. "A luck potion, sir? Do you mean that it makes luck?"

Slughorn nodded in his genial way. "Indeed. Tricky to make, it sure was! One wrong move would end in disastrous results, so I suggest no one try to make it. But, back to the point, yes, if you swallow just a bit of this wonderful stuff, you'll have a day of luck!"

The class began to talk among themselves in a very excited way. I raised my hand.

"Why don't people take this potion every day? It seems like a great way to have a good day every day!"

"Well, if you drink too much of it, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and too much confidence. Put 'em together, and, well, you're day may not be what you hoped it would. However, taken sparingly, you'll find yourself in a very lucky situation indeed!"

"Have you ever taken it?" Sarah asked.

"Oh! Yes, just last year! A day filled with luck…" He trailed off, a dreamy luck in his eye.

We were silent until he came out of his reverie and told us, "Well. I'm offering each and every one of my students a chance to take a bottle of this wonderful stuff home with them. Or out of the classroom at least! I have enough here in this cauldron to offer each and every of my classes some of it. One person per class. All you have to do is impress me with a potion!"

He took a tiny glass bottle out of his pocket and dipped it into the Felix Felicis, and it came up full of the jolly golden stuff.

"Just one bottle of this will be enough for half a day's luck! Perhaps the best twelve hours of your life!"

Suddenly, he came out of his friendly tone and narrowed his eyes at us, something I had yet to see him do. "But pay attention to this, I will only say this once. "Felix Felicis is banned in sporting events and other competitions. It can't be used during tests, either. So just take it on an ordinary day, and well, see for yourself!"

He made sure everyone in the room could see the golden bottle, and then lay it on his desk, as if tempting us.

"Now, for a little competition! Let's see who will win this wonderful bottle of luck! I want you all to flip to page eight in your books, and take a little look at the potion I have set up today!"

Everyone hastily turned to page eight, and I stared at the potion we were to make.

Page eight showed a painting of a witch taking a potion in a bottle and then turning into a bat. The bat began to fly around the page.

It was called "Dose of Vespertilian," and it looked a bit complicated for first-years. Weren't potions for changing forms difficult?

Slughorn saw all of us simply staring at the complex methods and ingredients.

"Oho! I see you think this is too hard for you! Well, I wouldn't be so sure till you try! Any ingredients you don't have are in the cupboards. Start now! You have forty minutes! The person with the best potion wins a little bottle of luck!"

Everyone scrambled to put their cauldrons on their desks. Soon everyone was weighing their ingredients.

I dumped a load of gooseberries (Slughorn gave us each a handful or two for the potion) onto my scale and weighed them, and discovered I had too much. I quickly found the right amount and chopped them up with my knife and then dumped them into my cauldron.

The finished product was supposed to a vibrant purple with black specks in it, and as we neared the end, mine began turning a dull purple.

I flung the ingredients in, really wanting a day of luck. Tom was working feverishly beside me, never once glancing up from his hard work.

I added the last ingredient, pepper, and then to my dismay, the dull purple became vivid, and the pepper added the nice, black specks that bubbled up in it. I was very satisfied, and just as I gave my potion five last clockwise stirs like the book said I should, Slughorn said, "Time's up! Stop whatever you're doing!"

He moved slowly around the tables peering into cauldrons. He never commented, but sometimes gave a nod of his head or a shake of it. At last he reached our table, and peered into Tom's first. He gave Tom a big smile, and said jovially, "Ah! We might just have ourselves a winner here! Unless this young lady made an even better one!"

He peered into mine, and his face broke out into his smile which I had seen very often. "Oho!" He exclaimed, and then said to the class, "It appears that we have two winners up here at this same desk!"

He smiled down at the two of us and brought over the glass bottle. He took an empty one out of his pocket and uncorked the filled one and poured half of its contents into the empty one. Slughorn then delightfully handed us each a bottle of luck.

"Good job, Tom and Samantha! Well done! Six hours of luck for each of you!"

He had the class come and peer into our cauldrons after that, leading me to blush because of all the attention and praise.

After every one was seated I asked, "What are we going to use this Dose of Vespertilian for, sir?"

"Ah! Well, since the Dose of Vespertilian is only used rarely and under certain circumstances, I'll just have the two of you give me a sample from your cauldrons. Turning into a bat in not something you do every day, of course, but it can come in handy for wizards. Bats, as you'll soon learn in History of Magic from Binns, if you stay awake that is, played a big part in history."

He scooped some purple potion out of each of our cauldrons and then added it to the vast amount he had locked up in a cabinet behind his desk.

"Have a great day everyone!" He said as the bell rang and we were on to our next class. "And enjoy that Felix Felicis, Tom and Samantha!"

As Tom and I were exiting, I recalled my dream. Strange, I seemed to have forgotten about it even when I was sitting just next to him. Maybe I was just too tired to care, and when the lucky potion was introduced, too excited.

However, as it came up into my mind again I pulled Tom over to the side and informed him, "I had another dream last night, Tom. It involved you once again. I just don't know what to think…."

He stared at me coldly and said, "I don't care. Just leave me alone, Samantha." He turned away and marched down the hallway. I wondered what I had said, but then remembered that that was Tom. He just acted that way.

And I hated it. I had thought the night before that he would speak to me about the orphanage and his feelings, but he didn't. I wondered why he even told me. Maybe he just wanted someone to talk to. He was always alone, everywhere he went. He never spoke hardly to anyone, except the teachers. I wondered if he liked being alone. I hoped not. I hoped we could talk sometime.

Our next class that day was Herbology, which we had three times a week. I stood next to him as Rose talked about the next plant we would be planting, as the Rew Roses had proved to be too dangerous for first-years.

She was talking about some kind of plant, and if you tickled it just in the right place, it would let out a liquid that would cure students with the cold. She demonstrated on this vibrant green stem of some sorts, and it began to shake with what I thought was plant laughter, and after a while green liquid oozed out. She captured it in a glass bottle like the one I had in my robes filled with luck (which I soon hoped to make use of).

"You must be careful, though students," she was sure to tell us. "Don't tickle it too much, or it might grab hold of your arm and not let go. In fact, a witch in Ireland tickled one too much, and it has hung around her arm ever since. No one has ever been able to free the vine. Carry on!"

I wondered if she was telling the truth. I hoped she was just trying to scare us, but I gulped all the same. I sure didn't want a foot long green stem of a thing wrapped around my arm everywhere I went.

I picked up a bottle and gingerly began tickling the stem.

Tom did the same, and soon we had a bottle full of cold-curer. I smiled as I was the first Gryffindor to turn it in and was awarded ten points.

After the lesson, I gave Tom a quick look, but he didn't return it. I figured that last night was just a fluke, and went sadly off to Transfiguration, where I was the first to transform my string into yarn. But I didn't even feel happy about it.

That same night the Gryffindors had Astronomy with the Ravenclaws, and I got to speak to Abby, who I hadn't seen or spoke to since the ride across the lake.

We both aimed our telescopes at Mars, and as we marked what stars surrounded it on our papers, we talked about how we liked school.

Abby said, "It's rather nice. Potions is my favorite class; Slughorn is so interesting! But History of Magic…ugh! And what about that Rose?"

We talked about our classes and teachers for a while longer until Rose mentioned Tom. "Have you spoken to him? Are you two friends?"

I sighed and stopped looking at Sirius, who twinkled merrily in the night sky just above us.

"Well, I have tried talking to him, but he really won't talk back. I think he hates everything and everybody."

Abby nodded and then noticed my sadness, so switched to another subject. "How about Quidditch? I think you have that tomorrow evening with that one professor who I forgot what his name was."

I nodded. "Yes, I can't wait! It's been something I've really been looking forward too! You too?"

She nodded slowly, and then told me, "Well, I'm looking forward to it only a bit. My brother, who is in his fourth year, fell off his broom on the first time he got up on it, and broke his wrist. But his broom was mad, I heard. When he got on, it took him straight up in the sky and then threw him all around, and he fell off after it did like ten loops in mid-air."

Now I wasn't so sure how much I really wanted to ride. "Uh," I began, "does that happen often?"

She shook her head, "Hardly ever. My brother is fine now and got right back up on one later in the year, and went on to become a Chaser on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. And Madam Fitwell can cure broken bones just like that!" She snapped her fingers and smiled at me reassuringly.

I nodded and returned to seeking out stars, but now I had an image of me way up high in the air and my broom going mad and throwing me off, and me landing not-so-pleasantly on the ground.


	10. Learning to Fly

**Please review! **

The next day I was cutting across the courtyard hurrying to class. A few kids moseyed around on the grass, quickly saying their goodbyes to their friends and gathering up their books. As I was about ready to enter the building, I heard a low hissing coming from behind a shady bush underneath a large tree. As I was hurrying up the steps into the building, I saw, half-hidden by the bushes, Tom. He had a short, green snake in his hands and was hissing at it in some tongue that I didn't recognize. And the scary thing was, the snake was hissing back, as if they were talking to one another.

That evening after supper in the Great Hall, I went to the library to look up information about talking to snakes. Could wizards do it? Could all wizards do it?

I was determined to find out. I went up to the librarian, an ancient woman who had glasses that magnified her eyes five times. She was very short, and often had to stand on a tall footstool just to reach books on the shelves. However, it was known that was a very caring old lady, and hardly ever yelled.

When I reached the desk she sat at, she looked up from her book _The Weary World of Werewolves _by Claude Howl. She seemed a bit disappointed that I interrupted her, but she put her book down anyway and folded her hands together, intertwining her fingers. "What can I do for you young lady?" she said in her accented voice that sounded very Irish.

I looked at her nameplate that declared "Madam Biblio" and her huge stack of books right next to it. "Madam Biblio, I was wondering if you have books about talking to snakes."

"Parseltongue?" she questioned.

"I suppose. If it means talking to snakes, yes."

She rose out of her chair and went over to a dusty corner of the library that looked seldom used. Muttering to herself, she finally chose a dark green, thick musty-smelling book, and handed it to me. The title was in some foreign language, but when I peeked inside, the words were English. I thanked her and she went back to her table to become once again absorbed in her novel.

I opened the book, and its cover practically creaked. Grimacing at the strong musty and dusty smell of the book, I began to read.

Parseltongue, I learned, was most commonly associated with Salazar Slytherin, who was a founder of Hogwarts. After deciphering a paragraph with many difficult words with a regular muggle dictionary which somehow was in the library, I discovered that he was also obsessed with pure-bloods.

Skipping that section, I further read about Parseltongue. It was quite uncommon the book said, and was both associated with good and bad wizards, which made me feel a bit better. It made me think of Tom, and what I had seen.

I sighed and closed the book and returned it to its rightful place on the shelf. I then approached Madam Biblio.

She sighed and put down her book. "Yes?"

"I was wondering, what's 'Avada Kedrava?'"

She sat up faster than I had ever seen her move. "Why do you want to know?!" She practically shouted.

I was afraid to tell her about the dream. But ever since I heard Tom yell it out that night, I had been wondering. I didn't know anything about it, but figured it was some sort of spell.

"I…was, I mean, I just, I mean…I just heard it in passing, and was wondering. Do you have any books about it?"

"I wouldn't give them to you even if I did! That's evil magic; you shouldn't even bring up such an Unforgivable Curse!"

"Can't you just tell me what it is?"

She sighed and sat back down. "Well, I guess I could at least explain it to you. 'Avada Kedrava'…well, that curse, well, to put it simply, kills you."

"You mean, you just say it and it kills the person?"

She nodded sadly. "No one had ever survived it, at least not that we know of. Of course, it takes years to master it, to actually be able to use it to kill someone. It's very dark magic, and in my opinion, shouldn't even exist. Of course, that doesn't stop people from using it."

I nodded at her to show that I understood, and then just as I was leaving, she advised me, "Now, don't even think about using it, young lady. And please don't mention it. I'm not really fond of the whole student body knowing about it. Then again, many already do…"

She returned to her book and I exited the library, having gotten the information that I had been seeking for.

The next day in potions after a dream-free night, I asked him in a voice I tried to make sound as if I was just making light conversation, "I was reading, Tom, in a book in the library about Salazar Slytherin, you know, the guy's house you got sorted under."

He perked up. "What did you read?" he asked, stirring water into his potion.

"Well, I read lots of things. I read that he only liked pure-bloods, and lived rather a long time ago and…" I paused, and then continued, "And could talk to snakes."

"He could talk to snakes?" Tom stopped what he was doing and stared at me with his commanding eyes. "Yes, he could. Why are you so interested?"

He shrugged, and answered coolly, "I was just wondering. Sounded interesting."

After he stirred his potion for a while seeming deep in thought, he demanded, "What else did you read about him?"

"Uh, well, it was rumored that he created some sort of chamber thing in the school because he-"

Slughorn interrupted my answer, talking about the potion we were making. I was going to finish our conversation about Slytherin in Herbology, but when I addressed it a few hours later after tickling some stems, Tom just gave a slight shake of the head and gave his glare that I knew so well.

I sighed in defeat, and then gathered up some green cold-curer and handed it to the over-delightful Rose, who awarded Gryffindor one point.

That evening we learned how to fly on a broomstick. Things didn't go as well as I hoped, but at least I didn't break anything.

Professor Newtal was a short, thin man with a head full of blond curls. He was an avid Quidditch fan, he told us, and had been the Beater years back on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.

The golden sun reflected on the late summer grass, making it sparkle. A soft breeze rustled the green grass on which we were to have our lesson, and the evening sun glowed over the Hogwarts castle.

The Slytherins arrived just after us, and Newtal soon had us gather near the twenty brooms lying on the ground.

"Find a broomstick quickly," Professor Newtal called to us, clapping his hands together.

I found a broomstick near the edge across from Tom. I gave him a quick glance which he did not return. I then turned my gaze to the broom. It was nothing at all like the sleek, new-looking brooms I had seen at Diagon Alley. This broom's handle was all scraggly looking and appearing as if it was just waiting to give me splinters. The twigs stuck out in angles that I really didn't agree with. I gulped, and remembered Abby's brother. I had also heard talk of how the school brooms weren't the greatest to use, and I wasn't so sure about what we were going to do.

"Now, everyone," Professor Newtal said, "stand near your broom, and stick your right hand over it. Done that? Good. Now say 'Up!'"

I chorus of 'Ups!' came from the students.

My broom rolled over on the ground, and lay there, quivering.

Tom's, on the other hand, immediately sprang into his hands. He fingered it and smirked.

"UP!" I commanded loudly.

My broom lay rigid for a moment, and then sprang up furiously, slamming into my hands.

"Stupid broom," I muttered, looking at my red hands. The broom twitched angrily in my hands as if it had heard and understood what I had said. But that was impossible, right?

Finally, after many attempts, everyone got their broom 'up.' Even Sarah, whose broom just bounced all over the ground in a random motion, finally bounced into her right hand, after having the class wait about three minutes. We all cheered, including the professor (except for Tom, of course) when the broom obeyed her.

Using his own, old Quidditch broom, Professor Newtal showed us how to mount and then grip. After checking that everyone was in the correct position and had the correct grip, he said "Now, when I give the command 'go,' I want everyone to kick off from the ground hard, keeping your broom stable, rise a few feet from the ground, and come straight back down by slightly leaning forward. Do you have any questions?" He peered at us, and finally Sarah, whose broom was twitching madly under her said, "What if we can't come back down?"

"Ah! Well, even if you do go up, you'll come back down eventually. The worst accident we ever had was just a few years ago when someone broke their wrist and the longest amount of time anyone has spent in the air was only an hour or two."

I heard several students fidget slightly, but the Professor chose not to pay attention. "Now, ready yourselves. GO!"

I pushed off the ground hard just like I was instructed to do, but my broom wouldn't hear of just staying near the ground. Oh no, it wanted to be much higher. I watched as all the other nineteen students on the ground including a startled teacher watched me as my broom took me up, up, up into the sky.

I screamed loudly as the broom went higher than the highest tower of the castle, and then twitched and twirled up there in the air.

"Just hang on!" Professor Newton unnecessarily advised, his voice faint over the throbbing in my ears that I knew was my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

I tried to lean forward, but the broom just jerked back instead, and then it was carrying me up and over the Forbidden Forest.

I peeked at the dark, tall trees that waved eerily in the breeze, moaning and groaning. I sure didn't want to fall in there, especially after Dippet's warning.

I jerked back on the broom, and to my surprise, it jerked along with me, and we were soon going back in the direction we came from, back over the dark forest and all its scariness.

The wind rustled through my hair as the broom swerved over the castle, nearly hitting the roof of the Astronomy Tower. The bright green lawn buzzed with the figures of twenty people shielding their eyes to look up at the poor girl up in the air on a mad broomstick.

They watched as my mad broom flung me this way and that, as if I was in some sort of whirlwind, or tug-a-war between two kids fighting for a toy. And I certainly felt as if I was being pulled one way and then directly to the other. My head spun and my hands were becoming sweaty.

Quite suddenly, the broom veered downward, straight for the worried group. Professor Newtal was yelling something, cupping his hands around his mouth, but I couldn't hear him over the ringing in my ears.

I was spiraling down, down, and I couldn't stop no matter what. I tried pulling up on the broom, but it just twitched impatiently and did a loop in midair. My fingernails were practically dug into the wood of the handle.

Screaming, the broom pulled me down to the green field below, and I was aiming right for my friend, Sarah.

I saw her big green eyes behind her glasses go wide with fright. She couldn't get out of the way fast enough, and put up her arms to shield herself as best as possible.

I tried leaning backward on the broom, but I got no response, and when I tried jumping off, it leaned with me and wouldn't let me fall.

Desperate, I yanked back at the broom and skidded my feet in the air, (which did not good of course, it was just an instinct reaction) but my broom wouldn't hear of it, and I soon slammed onto an unfortunate Sarah.

My chin thudded hard against the ground, but luckily it was grass, although as my knees skidded across the yard, I did get a grass stain. But that was nothing compared to Sarah.

I quickly scrambled off her as I gathered my wits. My broom, which I now loathed, zoomed out of my hands and rocketed away, disappearing behind the trees of the Forbidden Forest.

I was very glad to see it go.

Turning my gaze back to Sarah, I knelt down next to her as Professor Newtal also arrived.

She was lying on her stomach, but I could hear her muttering something when I asked if she was alright. It sounded like, "'m okay."

Professor Newtal gently turned her over and her green eyes were staring up confusedly at us. "I'm okay," she said, breathing hard.

Josephine, her sister, rushed over and peered anxiously at her. "Is she alright, Professor?" she asked in a rush.

"I'm fine," Sarah answered for her, although she had her hand on her head and was wincing slightly. I noticed her bandaged hand had also come unraveled, and revealed a nasty-looking cut that had been created by a plant I never hoped to see again.

She had also landed on her broom, with me on top of her, so I could only imagine what her stomach felt like. I felt so sorry for her.

Despite his shortness and thinness, Professor Newtal gathered poor Sarah up into her arms and shouted over to the buzzing group of students who had all eyes on Sarah, "I'm taking Miss. Green up to the hospital wing. No one dare get back on their brooms, or I'll have you be an assistant to Pringle the rest of the semester, and all the semesters after that!"

Josephine rushed past me and followed them into the castle. I sighed and kicked the ground, turning up dirt.

Both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors swarmed around me asking all sorts of questions.

"Why did you do it?" a tiny Slytherin boy asked.

"Couldn't you stop?" another Slytherin asked.

"What did it feel like?" a Gryffindor questioned.

"Is Sarah going to be alright?" another Gryffindor peered up at me with wide eyes.

"Why didn't you jump off when you came near the ground?"

"Why didn't you lean forward like Newtal instructed?"

"Was it frightening or enjoyable?"

"How was the ride over the Forbidden Forest?"

"Do you think Sarah will forgive you?"

The questions were all directed at me quite quickly, and I couldn't keep up with them.

"Stop!" I shouted over their loud and irksome questions.

They all stopped and stared, seeing what move I would make next.

I slid my fingers through my hair and sighed. "It was scary, and the broom wouldn't let me do anything I told it to do, and no, I couldn't stop was hitting Sarah because of that very reason!" I tried to answer all their questions at once, but I had the feeling they would be further interrogating me.

But before they could, I realized I was missing something. I panicked and quickly felt around my throat and noticed that I was missing my necklace, the antique necklace which had been handed down through each lady in my family for generations. It was very valuable, and I knew my mom would be very disappointed if she found that I had lost it. I would forever loose her trust, and of course, I would be without one of my favorite material possessions.

I let out in a panicked voice, "My necklace! It must have fallen off!"

My fellow students stared and then began a new ring of questions, asking me if it was valuable, where I might have lost it, or how important it was to me.

However, they were cut off by the returning professor. I rushed up to him, my hand still around my throat as if hoping the necklace would magically reappear, and asked him breathlessly, in spite of my recent misfortune, "How is Sarah? Is she going to be okay? Does she blame me? Is she hurt seriously?"

Professor Newtal patted me reassuringly on the shoulder and informed me she was doing well, and she did not blame me, and Madam Fitwell was fixing up her most frequented student this year just fine.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and told him thanks. I also told him about the escapee, the broom.

Chuckling, he told me, "No matter. That broom was not worthy of being ridden anyway."

He then assembled the students, had us practice a few times more (I had to borrow his broom) and then, since we had had no more accidents, sent us off to our common rooms to get ready for supper in the Great Hall.

I walked behind the group, next to Tom.

He eyed me but didn't say anything, and merely parted without words to go to the dungeons to the Slytherin common room, which I felt would be awfully dreary and saturnine.

I still was very frightened over the loss of my necklace. I knew that I had to get it back. It was very special, and mattered so much to my mom. It was like a remnant of our family. I had to go and find it.

I decided to look after supper, when the sun would just give enough light to find it. I knew if it landed somewhere like on the fields, it would be easily seen in the glittering low sun, but I wasn't so sure if I lost it in the grass or the Forbidden Forest. I had a sinking feeling that if it disappeared into the forest's depths, it would only be seen by an occasional worm and the dirt, eventually being covered in leaves and never to be seen again. I sure hoped that would not be the case.

But I needed someone's help. That someone? Tom.


	11. Double Stolen

**Keep in mind that Tom likes "trophies."**** Please review also! **

I approached Tom after supper in the Great Hall.

He was heading in a big pack of kids to the dungeons, which was where the Slytherin common room was. I followed him until the pack of kids dwindled to just a few.

"Tom!" I shouted, trying to get his attention.

He turned at once and headed toward me, almost gliding in that strange way of his. He seemed so perfect.

I pulled him over next to a statue of a witch with a cat on her shoulder stirring a cauldron. She had raggedy hair like brambles in the woods, and had a short, chubby nose and wore a strange hat covered in what looked like pebbles. There was a plaque on the front of the cauldron declaring "Yule Hazel Freogot: Famous Witch of the Fifteenth Century. Spoke the Language of the Cat."

"Could you assist me with a little…problem I have?" I questioned, trying to ignore the cauldron on the statue. Thick green smoke that smelled like onions was streaming from it.

Tom turned his eyes away from the cauldron, staring at me. "What would your problem be? Of course, you'd have plenty of problems after that broomstick ride." He smirked.

I chose to ignore that last comment. "I lost something. A necklace. It's really important. When I was flying, I think it fell off. Do you think you can help me find it?"

His eyes fell on the statue. He answered while staring at it, "I'll assist you."

I gave him a grateful smile and headed outside onto the grounds.

The bottom of the sun was just reaching the horizon of the lake, making it sparkle with thousands of brilliant colors.

But I couldn't stand around and stare at the scenery. I had to find my necklace.

I described it to Tom, and he nodded and, pulling his wand out, went to search.

I didn't know enough spells to help me look, so I just used my eyes.

The grass was short, so it was easy to scan the field where we practiced. However, I found no necklace, although I did find a shoelace.

But I wasn't looking for a shoelace. My mom wouldn't be too pleased if I came home with a shoelace around my neck trying to pass it off for a necklace!

But anyways, I looked over at my shoulder at Tom. He had his wand out, and seemed to be concentrating very hard.

He was like that for a while, until he suddenly jerked his head up, and was still. He seemed as if he was waiting for something.

I returned to my searching. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him turn and look at me. He seemed a bit suspicious, as if he was up to something.

Keeping his eyes on me, he held out his hand, and I saw something that shone in the light of the sun fly into it. He quickly dumped it into his robe pocket.

I realized that it was my necklace. I could tell when it flew into his hand. And he had put it into his pocket. His pocket. Not my hand. He was stealing.

Tom began walking toward me, my eyes still on the grass next to my feet. Tom must not have thought I was watching him when he put my necklace into his pocket.

He approached me and lied, "Sorry. I couldn't find it."

I knew he would never tell me he stole it, and I didn't want to hurt his feelings by accusing him of stealing it. So I said, "Well, if you come across it Tom, please give it to me. It matters very much to my family."

Tom nodded, staring at me with his deep, penetrating eyes. I considered telling him I knew my necklace was just inches away from me, but for some reason, I couldn't. I just couldn't.

But I would get one of my most treasured family possessions. I would somehow get it. And then the idea came to me. If he stole it, couldn't I steal it back?

1

That night I snuck out of the Gryffindor common room. My friends all stared at me as I did, but I couldn't think of a good excuse, so I just gave them a wave and went out. They would never follow me out at this time, afterhours.

The Fat Lady started at me suspiciously. "Aliens or trick steps?" she asked, smirking.

"Neither," I replied, and gave her a wave, heading down a set of stairs. Finally, I reached the staircase that went into the entrance hall. I was about to go down them when I heard the voices of many teachers. Quickly ducking behind a statue, I watched as Dippet, Dandle, and Dumbledore came out of the great hall, all looking like they were in an argument.

Dandle, the D.A.D.A. teacher, was saying loudly, "Well, I won't stand for your attitude anymore, Dumbledore! You always think you know best, don't you? Always suggesting and smiling and acting as if you're the best!"

"Ah, but Claudius, I think you are quite wrong about the matter we were just previously discussing. I meant no harm to you by simply commenting on your ideas. I was just…adding to the conversation." Dumbledore was trying to appear cheerful, but I could tell by his eyes that his efforts were coming close to failing.

Dandle looked very displeased, and said, "Well, believe what you must, but I know for a fact that Tom is a great student. He is simply brilliant, why, the most brilliant student I have seen in my time."

Dumbledore frowned, and I along with him. Were they talking about Tom Riddle? I listened closer.

Dumbledore was saying, "But don't you think it odd that he is _that_ smart? He is so quiet, and yet….so brilliant. And yet, there is something about him that I don't like. He makes me nervous and uncomfortable. I just can't trust him, Claudius." Dumbledore stared hard at Dandle for a while, and then turned to Dippet.

Dippet, realizing that he was expected to speak, said "Well, I don't know. He seems like a brilliant boy to me. But I must get going to go do…things." He hurried off without a backward glance. He seemed to feel inferior to the two other men, and very nervous. Maybe it was just his old age, I reasoned.

"Tom Riddle, no matter what you say Albus, is one of the greatest students Hogwarts has ever seen. Just because you don't agree with him doesn't mean I don't have to." Dandle told Dumbledore, and marched away.

Dumbledore was left staring after them, and his eyebrows were furrowed. He seemed deep in thought. After a while, he walked away, too, leaving me to look at the empty space which just a while ago was occupied with two arguing teachers and an I-don't-know-what-to-do headmaster.

I crept silently down the steps, looking for any more teachers. Luckily, I found none, and went in search of the Slytherin common room.

1

I was lost. Well, that was expected, but for one thing, I wasn't so sure where their common room was. I knew it was in the dungeons, but had no idea where exactly.

I stopped at the entrance to a classroom. I thought I heard footsteps approaching, and quickly ducked into the classroom.

It was empty except for some boxes and a few desks piled into the far corner, and….

My eyes boggled. There, on top of the boxes, was a ghost, sitting, singly softly.

Of course, I had encountered many ghosts throughout Hogwarts, but never one like this. She was the ghost of a tall lady, and her hair looked strange in the light from the moon pouring in through a window.

Her hair was long, touching the boxes, and her eyes looked sad. She was wearing what looked like an old gown of some sort, ripped in many places. Around her wrists were many silver bracelets, and long, silver earrings that flashed in the moonlight dangled from her ears. She had on no shoes, and was holding some sort of music box, softly singing along with the tunes that issued out of it. It was a very spooky scene indeed.

As I came in, she stopped singing and just stared at me with those sad eyes.

"Uh, hello," I whispered, and headed over to her.

She watched as I approached, and when I was at the foot of the boxes looking at her, she was still just staring.

After a great length of time where we just studied each other, I said, "Err, I'm Sam. I don't think I've seen you around. What's your name?"

Her eyes looked like orbs. After a pause she replied, "I don't have a name." Her voice was soft and misty as she talked.

"You don't have a name?" I repeated, confused. How could she not have a name? All the ghosts I had already encountered or heard about had a name. Bloody Baron, Nearly Headless Nick... they all had names, even if that name was not what they had had when they were alive.

She nodded sadly. "Yes, that is correct. At least, I don't remember having a name. I might have, but ever since that boy came in here, I can't remember…."

I was thoroughly confused. "You can't remember? What boy?" I asked, eager to get answers as I used this room as temporary refuge.

"Well, like I said, I don't remember. I just remember some boy with black hair hitting me with a curse, and then, that's all. It happened just today, I think. I didn't know where I was until Sir Nearly Headless Nick informed me just a bit ago. And when I asked him where I was and who I was, he looked at me strangely and said I had always been here, since he could remember, at least. He told me my name was Elizabeth, but I don't know if that is true. So, I shall just remain nameless until I can sort everything out. I am so confused."

She looked so sad that I almost climbed up on the boxes and gave her a comforting hug, but I remembered that she was a ghost.

She sighed and looked down at her music box. It was a fine thing, made out of wood, which shone in the light of the moon. It was decorated with what looked like silver and green gems, and the music coming from it was certainly haunting. It sounded like the howling of a night wind, the rustle of something unknown in the tall grass, and something else very sinister that I couldn't place.

"Where did you get that music box?" I asked her, pointing.

She looked down at it and closed the lid, shutting off the music. The top was decorated in an elaborate painting of two snakes intertwined, one green and another silver. The snakes made me realize what that sinister bit of the music was. It was the hissing of _snakes_.

I shivered as she answered my question. "I found it. In one of these boxes I'm sitting on. And it had this in it. She opened the box and the haunting music flowed out, making goose bumps rise on my arms. She took out what looked like a piece of parchment and closed the box, shutting of the music.

"I couldn't read it, but I thought you might," she explained, handing it out to me.

I reached up and took the paper, careful to not brush against her.

The paper was old and crumbled and yellowing, and holes, probably from mice, were also included in its features. I smoothed it out on a box near me, and tried to read the words.

I leaned further down to the paper, my nose almost on the ancient parchment. But the words were too faint; age had worn them away and they just looked like the ghost of something that used to be there.

I shook my head and gave it back to her. "I can't read it either," I informed the ghost lady, and she sighed and put it back into the box, this time leaving it open.

I just stared at her for a while. I was beginning to feel a bit…strange. My head was swarming with strange images. I saw a snake slithering through the grass, its long, green body barely disturbing the green ground. I saw a man in green and black looking behind him as he entered a bathroom and looked at a sink. The image of a giant snake flashed in my head, and a dark tunnel of some sorts. I heard that strange hissing that was called Parseltongue. An image of who I suspected was Salazar Slytherin flashed through my already buzzing head. His face was furious as he faced three other people and shouted at them. All these images flashed over and over again, and I tried to block them out, but they just kept swarming. I could barely see the ghost in front of me, and I could just hear her voice, "Are you becoming ill? Shall I call someone?"

"No!" I choked out, and said quickly, "Close that box!" I heard the eerie music stop, and the images slowly flooded out of me head. I felt as if I had had the worst headache of my life, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I leaned over on the boxes and took some calming breaths. It wasn't really the images that made me feel this way. I think it was the music.

The ghost stared at me with concern. "Shall I call someone?" She repeated, and jumped off the boxes and floated to the ground. "Shall I call the nurse?"

"No!" I said forcefully, and cringed at my loud voice. I listened outside for footsteps or any sign that someone had heard me, but I heard nothing.

I sighed and looked at the ghost, who was nervously fingering the box. "Can I have that?" I asked. I was going to destroy it as soon as possible. I knew this ghost never would. It seemed to have no effect on her.

She seemed hesitant. "Why?"

"Do you really have any reason to keep it?" I asked, avoiding her question.

"No, I don't. You're right. I would probably just loose it anyway. I don't even know who it belongs to." She handed me the box, and I told her thanks.

She nodded. "What are you going to do with it?"

I thought quickly. "Err, put it somewhere safe in my room."

She smiled. Suddenly, she looked confused, and questioned, "What are you doing here anyway? I may not remember much, but I do know enough that this is afterhours. Students should be in bed."

"I know! I'll go back to bed soon. I just have to do something. Don't tell anyone, okay?"

She nodded and drifted back to the boxes, silently singing some sort of eerie tune that resembled the music from the box which I held in my hands.

I exited with a wave. The passage seemed darker than before, and I realized my mission. I had almost forgotten, especially with that music messing with my mind. I could still hear echoes of it in my head.

I doubled back into the room, the ghost surprised that I had come back twice in one night.

"Yes?" She questioned, sitting back on the box she had been before and looking out the window into the night.

"I was wondering if you know where the Slytherin common room is."

I was quite ecstatic when she nodded her head and gave me the directions. "Thanks a million!" I told her, departing with another wave.

As it turned out, I just needed to go down the passage a bit further and then right.

I was in front of a bare, damp stone wall, just as the ghost had described. No picture. Just wall. And the ghost had given me the password. I chuckled at the simplicity of it. "Salazar!"

A door that had been hidden in the wall slid slowly open with a groan of stone on stone. I walked through, quite nervous. I knew that I could never show my face. Everyone would know I was not a Slytherin.

But luckily, at such time of night, no one was in the common room, which was dark and depressing to me. It was all stone, and green lamps hung on chains from the ceiling. The fire had been put out, and the high-backed chairs stood like shadows of figures in the near darkness.

It smelled a bit musty, and I already hated the place. It was too dismal.

I chose a random passage (there were two) and headed down it. Torches lit the way, and I knew this to be the way to the dormitories. It branched out into seven smaller passages, and I chose the first on the left.

The dormitory was windowless, of course, and decorated with green and silver colored things of all sorts. There were five four-poster beds, and the sheets were all in green, outlined in silver. The floor was cold and damp. A lone lamp hung from the ceiling, giving me just enough light. A green and silver striped rug was beside each bed, and it was upon this that I saw something that looked familiar.

I headed over to that rug, the farthest in the corner, and looked at Tom. I sure hoped he was sleeping, but I couldn't tell; his head was completely covered with the elaborate covers.

I knelt down at the satchel and began looking through it, trying to be as soft as possible. I took out books and other objects, but no necklace.

Maybe it was somewhere else. I looked around for possible places. The nightstand!

I pulled the drawer open slowly and went through the assortment of quills and parchments. There! My necklace was half hidden underneath a piece of parchment.

I grabbed it up and slowly shut the drawer. I crumbled the necklace up in my fist and glanced around the room. All seemed fine.

But then something went terribly wrong. Nobody told me that one of the stones was quite a bit higher than the others, sticking out. So, I tripped, and landed with a crash into a nightstand, tipping it over. The books on it tumbled out onto the floor, making even more noise. I heard a sleepy voice ask "What the…?"

I yanked the chain on the lamp, turning it off. Now I couldn't be seen. I dashed out of the room, necklace in hand, my knees badly scraped up along with my elbows. And down the passage and out into the common room I went. I ran out of the stone door, the music box thudding against my legs in my pocket.

I looked back once when I was out, but no one was coming after me. I slowed and breathed a sigh of relief, finally coming to a halt. I leaned against the stone wall to catch my breath. But my happiness at not getting caught soon evaporated. I heard footsteps, and before I could move, Dandle turned into the passageway and spotted me, his face very scary indeed.

I wished I had taken that Felix Felicis.


	12. A Very Scary Night Indeed

**Minerva McGonagall was a year ahead of Tom Riddle. She was born in 1925. (At least I think my dates are correct!)**** Also, the potion may sound a bit strange, but the fact that it doesn't affect Sam will be explained in the next chapter. She does feel fear, though; she would have a boggart just like Molly ****Weasley's. **** Please review, also. I need to know how I am doing!**

Dandle grabbed me by my ear and led me down the passage.

All the while he was snarling at how ashamed I should be ashamed of myself. But I wasn't at all. I had gotten my necklace back, and that was all that mattered. And no one in Tom's dormitory had seen me anyway.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor," he snarled after he finished yelling at me.

"What?!" I shouted. That was so unfair!

He nodded. "That is exactly what happens when a student is caught out of bed afterhours. What foolishness! What were you doing wondering the halls anyway Miss Wood?"

"I got lost." I replied, trying to act ashamed of myself.

He sniggered. "All the way down in the dungeons? You're stupider than I thought."

I really wanted to punch him in the face, but I figured all of Gryffindor's points would be taken if I did something like that to a teacher.

As we were walking up the stairs to get out of the dungeons, the ghost I had met earlier drifted past. She saw me being led by Dandle and stopped and stared.

"Help," I whispered to her.

"Professor?" The ghost asked in a loud voice.

He turned and stared at the ghost. "What? Can't you see I'm busy at the moment?"

"Of course. Sorry sir. But Sam doesn't really deserve this. In fact, it was my entire fault she was in the dungeons anyway."

"You fault?" Dandle asked cruelly, but I detected some curiosity in his voice. "How so?"

The ghost looked as if she was thinking hard, but quickly replied with a smile, "She had left one of her books in the Potions room, sir, and needed to study from it tonight. She met me just outside of her common room, and told me she had to go back to get her book. So I came with her, in case any teachers caught her on the way. However, I had to leave her back there because Peeves was making a racket just upstairs, and I had to soothe him."

He turned to me, smirking. "Where is the book then, young lady?"

"Just right here," I replied, reaching behind me for my satchel. I was very lucky that it did not fall off when I fell to the floor.

I showed the book to him and he gave a grunt. I could tell he was extremely upset that he couldn't get me into further trouble.

"Fine. But next time I catch you out of bed afterhours, no ghost or ghost, you will wish you had never come to Hogwarts."

He strode off in a swish of black robes, and I gulped.

"Thanks for that," I told the ghost, smiling at her.

"No problem. I hate that man too. And I just met him a few hours ago." She started to drift off, but I stopped her. "Could you accompany me to the Gryffindor Tower? Just in case I get caught again by someone else?"

She smiled and nodded, and away we went to the Gryffindor Tower. This time I didn't get lost.

When I had thanked the ghost, and climbed through the pothole, I glanced at my watch and saw that it was nearly two in the morning. Yikes. I had been gone a while.

I had expected to see no one in the common room, but I was wrong. A girl with square-framed glasses and her brown hair in a ponytail sat near the fire, just staring into it. I didn't recognize her, so she had to be either a second or third year.

She glanced up as I entered, but didn't say anything. But I could tell she was very lonely, so I went and sat by her.

"Hello, I'm Sam Wood, I'm a first year. Uh, who are you?"

She glanced over at me and I could tell by the puffiness of her eyes that she had been crying. But she said in a strong voice, "I'm Minerva. Minerva McGonagall. Pleased to meet you." She stuck out her hand in a formal gesture and I shook it.

"What are you doing up so late?" I asked as politely as possible.

"Humph. I should be asking you that." She replied, cleverly avoiding my question.

"I had to get my Potions book. I left it in Slughorn's."

"Oh," was all she said, and went back to staring in the fire.

"Are you in second year?" I finally asked.

Without turning her gaze from the dancing red and orange flames, she nodded.

I stared transfixed into the fire for a while, just thinking. Finally I asked the girl, "Would you mind telling me what is wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!" The girl said fiercely, adjusting the glasses which had slipped down her nose. She glared at me and stomped off.

I sighed. _Great, another Mar__y_, I thought, and went off to bed.

All the girls were asleep when I came into the dormitory, and for this I was very thankful. I didn't feel like explaining my adventure.

I sighed and flopped down on the red and gold covers. I opened up my sweaty fist which revealed the necklace inside. I hugged it to my chest; I had gotten it back. Without confronting Tom.

But I wondered what Tom would think when he found the necklace missing. But I didn't care. It was one of my most treasured possessions and he had stolen it. I put in around my neck, and then got the music box out of my pocket. The green and silver snake on its top were very detailed; you could see every scale, every tint of silver and green. The silver and emerald jewels around the box glittered in the light of the lamp by my bed. It was pretty, I had to admit, but what inside was certainly not.

I turned the box around and around in my hands, wondering what I should do with it. Wondering where it came from, why those images flashed in my head as the music played, and why the music was the way it was.

And as I wondered about that, I also wondered about the ghost. She said, or at least Nearly Headless Nick said, her name was Elizabeth. And a boy with black hair had came into the room. And then, after that, she couldn't remember anything. I hoped that boy was not Tom. But I had a feeling it was.

I really wished I could help Tom. He seemed so lost. Not lonely, he seemed not to care, but…lost. Like he needed someone, even if he didn't know it.

I set the music box on my dresser and drifted off to sleep.

_I was __standing in a room with many windows. Sky blue curtains covered the top half of them, the mountain tops barely showing. The yellow and green sofas around the room shone in the early morning light._

_The sun was just rising over the grounds of Hogwarts, in a brilliant array of colors: pinks, oranges, yellows, and __golds__. It was a beautiful sight. I breathed deeply, savoring the image._

_I heard a creak behind me, and there was Tom, coming out of the passage way that was behind the tapestry._

_"Tom?" I questioned, confused for some reason I knew not._

_He stared behind me at the rising sun, but I didn't turn around to stare with him. I just stared__ at him, afraid to turn my back._

_Finally he told me in a quiet voice of no emotion, "You know too much about me, Sarah. I can't let you live."_

_He turned to face me, his face blank, his long wand held out in front of him._

_My heart began to beat fast; there was a ringing in my ears. I couldn't seem to think too well._

_"Tom?" I questioned in a shaky voice._

_He didn't say anything, but pointed the wand directly at me. "I do regret this__, but__ it has to be done," were the only words he said after a lengthy pause. His words were flat and cold. _

_He raised his wand, and muttered two feared words, "Avada Kedrava!"_

I woke up breathing hard, but not screaming. For this I was thankful. I certainly didn't want the other girls to start worrying about me even more or perhaps reporting me to the nurse.

I reviewed the dream in my head. This was the third nightmare I had had that involved Tom. I wondered if my head was trying to tell me something. Perhaps my mind was trying to tell me to stay away from Tom.

But they were just dreams, I reasoned. Dreams were just…things that happened while you slept, pictures in your head, your brain sorting out things. But I knew deep down inside that my instincts were revealed in my dreams, trying to tell me to keep away from Tom. But that didn't stop me.

1

We were sitting at the same table, as usual, in Potions. Professor Slughorn was talking about some kind of potion, but for one of the first times in my life, I wasn't listening. I was thinking about what I would say to Tom. About the necklace, the dreams, everything. I was just thinking about the part of my second and third dreams where Tom used the Avada Kedrava curse when Slughorn called on me.

I only heard him call my name. He must have asked the question first.

Since my mind was wholly elsewhere, I said stupidly, "Kedrava."

The Professor looked at me funny. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"Uh, I meant, could you please repeat the question?"

What a close call, I thought as I answered his question: "Werewolves." I didn't just want to say anything in class. But I had been concentrating so hard on my dream, that I almost said the whole spell. And that, I knew, would have gotten me into trouble. I promised to myself I wouldn't think so hard about things later on.

I got the chance to talk to Tom in Herbology. Rose was ill that day with some kind of rash. Yep, you guessed it: one of her plants gave it to her. So, we had Ogg, the Keeper of the Keys and Grounds and Hogwarts, come in. He knew about some of the plants in the Forbidden Forest, so he talked about those.

"One of the most notorious plants commonly found in forests today is the Belladonna, also known as the Deadly Nightshade. I believe you all are required to have this in your potion-making kits?"

The class nodded in agreement, and Ogg continued, "Well, as you know, this plant is extremely poisonous indeed; both the leaves and berries can be poisonous if consumed. I found a patch just a few days ago in the Forbidden Forest…" He continued speaking about common plants and such, but I found it a very enjoyable lesson indeed. He may not have known as much as Rose, but he sure was a better teacher. He actually made the lesson safe and interesting. You didn't have to be on the lookout for thorns springing out at you sporadically or stems wrapping around your arms for the rest of your life.

At the end of the lesson, we still had five minutes, so I used this time to talk with Tom.

But he talked to me first.

"Did you find your necklace?" He asked. His face was a blank slate, but his eye frightened my.

"Oh, yes I did! I have it around my neck just now," I replied, showing it to him.

He looked livid. "Where did you find it?"

"Oh, I think you know Tom. And if you ever do anything like that again, you'll see this in your face." I held up my fist dangerously close to his long nose.

He smirked. "Like you could hurt me."

"Well, I don't know about that Tom." I said, frowning at him.

He just smirked and turned his back to me, but I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Tom, don't ever do anything ever like that again. Not to me, not to anyone."

He jerked away from my touch, frowning. "Just be quiet!" He snarled, and returned to putting his books in his bag.

The bell rang, and he was the first to march out of the door. I sighed and followed after the class.

At supper that evening, I sat next to Minerva McGonagall, bringing Sarah along with me. But I was too nervous to speak to Sarah about the accident with my broom. But she seemed not to notice. We just smiled and talked.

She smiled and acted much more kindly than she had the night before. I never asked her what had been wrong, and she never told me. But we did talk about classes, teachers, other kids, and Quidditch and such. She was a very smart person. You could just tell by the way she talked she was very clever and rule-abiding.

Sarah and I departed with a wave after breakfast and headed to Potions. It was the last school day of the week, and I was looking forward to the weekend. I hoped to explore the castle a bit and go out on the grounds and enjoy the dying summer.

The minute I walked in to class, I could tell Slughorn has something special planned for us. He had his chest stuck out and was fingering his walrus mustache, grinning behind it.

We all quickly found out seats. I sat next to Tom as usual, and, as usual, he did not reply. That was Tom for you.

"I've got a special lesson planned for you youngsters today! Usually I don't introduce this potion until the third year, but I've looked at your marks, are I think you are all clever enough to handle this. It's a fear potion!" He stared at all us, as if waiting for something. No one said anything, and he looked a bit disappointed. "Does anyone know what I am talking about?" He asked.

Tom answered, as usual. "Well, sir, it depends. There are many potions that establish fear. Are you talking about the Draught of Dread?"

Slughorn looked very pleased and nodded jovially. "Yes, I most certainly am. Five points to Slytherin. The Draught of Dread is rare, or at least most people have no use for it. However, a famous potions master that you will learn about later on created this. It doesn't make fear. It shows it. A bit like a boggart, actually. But this way doesn't involve something hiding in a dark enclosed place like a boggart will. No, this is a potion. The drinker will see in their mind once they have consumed the potion what they fear the most. Like a mental image.

"Now, I know some of you are wondering, why in the world would anyone take a potion that makes them see what they fear the most? But, in reality, this potion is a very useful one. Some people don't know what they fear the most. For those about to battle a boggart, this comes in handy. Of course, this potion takes months to make, and is very hard to obtain in many locations. But, it is still useful. Knowing what your boggart will be before you battle it can come in useful. And this potion tells the truth. Some people may deny that they fear something, if that something is embarrassing to them or such. But you can't hide your fear from this potion, and since you are all too young to battle a boggart, I want you all to try this potion instead."

He handed around a small cup with what looked like black slime inside it. I stared at the stuff and rolled it around in the cup. It made a strange, plopping sound. Gross.

"Now, before we begin, I want you all to write down what you think you fear most on a slip of paper and then put it face down on the desk. You won't have to show your fear to anyone. Which brings me to another thing. Draught of Dread, unlike a boggart, will show what you feel only to you. Much more private than a boggart. When you're finished, drink up the potion, and compare what you saw with what you wrote on the paper. You will be quite surprised."

I stared down at the blank parchment. I wasn't so sure what to write. There were things that made me feel afraid. Which made me some Gryffindor. But at least I wasn't a Slytherin.

So, back to my fear. Perhaps my family getting hurt? I wrote that down, and I saw Tom right after me scribble something down. It looked like just a few words.

After Slughorn was assured that everyone had written their fear on a piece of paper and put it face down on the desk, he said, "Now, when I say 'now' drink up the potion. Be sure to drink all of it. And don't be afraid, it's completely tasteless, although many say it has a bitter taste. But it won't make you change colors or become ill or anything. Trust me. I have done this thing for many years now. Drink up…now!"

I drowned the stuff in just a few seconds. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Tom doing the same. It did have a bit of a bitter taste, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it was.

Suddenly, I felt the room go dark. I couldn't feel Tom's presence beside me or even feel myself in the room. It was as if I was a long way away from all of it. But that was all. I just felt as if I was a long way away. I didn't see anything in my head, except a wild flash of colors and images I couldn't make out. Finally, after what felt like a long time of just seeing this, I felt myself return to the room, and there I was, staring at Slughorn.

I looked over at Tom, is face was scrunched up. With what? It looked like fear. Which made Tom seem to me, suddenly….different.

I looked over my shoulder at my other classmates. All of them had their eyes tight shut, a few whimpering and others appearing very fearful.

I looked up at Slughorn and he saw me staring. He stared at me and asked, "Didn't you take the potion Samantha?"

"Yes, sir, I certainly did." I replied. I had the feeling that something was wrong. Especially due to the fact that he was staring at me oddly.

"Did you see, err, anything?"

"Not really. Just a flash of colors, basically. I felt as if I was pulled away from the room though. But I just saw a flash of colors and some images I couldn't make out. It went by all so fast."

"Did you feel fear, though?"

I shook my head. Slughorn looked troubled. "You didn't see anything that made you frightened?"

"No, sir." Maybe there was a flaw in my potion. I told him this.

"That's not possible; all of the cups of potions I gave you came out of the same cauldron." He looked at me, and then over to the class. Many of the students now were opening up their eyes and peering around, looking grateful that they were back in the classroom safe from….whatever.

"Did you see something different than what you wrote on the paper?" Slughorn asked, finally seeming to not pay attention to me.

Most of the class nodded. I looked over at Tom. He stared at me with a blank expression.

"Would anyone like to volunteer their results?" Slughorn asked the class.

Sarah raised her hand. "Well, sir, on the parchment I wrote deep water, but I actually saw my family dead." She looked a bit frightened just by saying it.

Slughorn nodded. "Yes, that is the thing that I admire about this potion. It reveals the truth…in a very private way, that is."

After a few more volunteers, who each saw something different than they wrote on the paper, Slughorn spoke a bit about the complications behind the making of the potion and its ingredients. He dismissed us with the assignment of writing a short paper on the Draught of Dread.

However, he pulled me over to the side, and said, "Sorry if I spooked you, Samantha. I've just never had a case like yours. Are you sure you saw nothing?"

I nodded. "But I'm sure that there are things that scare me sir. Like, my family getting hurt or something."

He nodded. "So you have felt fear?"

"Of course." I replied, eager to make him not so suspicious of me.

He smiled and seemed revealed. "Hmm, maybe it was just some sort of fluke. Ah, well. Carry on!" He dismissed me with a smile, but just as I reached the door he asked, "Have you had a lucky day yet?"

It took me a couple of seconds to realize what he was talking about: the Felix Felicis.

"No, sir, but I just might very soon!"

He nodded and waved, and I went to my next class.

That night, Sarah and Jo and I discussed the day's event in the common room. We all sat by the fire, staring into its warm flames.

But first I had to ask Sarah about the…accident.

"Oh, no problem. I'm fine now; my head doesn't hurt a bit! And it's my fault anyway, I didn't get out of the way in time. Your broom was sure crazy!" She laughed and I knew she had forgiven me. We then turned to the discussion of what had occurred in Slughorn's class.

"What did you see?" Jo asked me, talking about the Draught of Dread.

"Uh, nothing, really. The potion messed up I think."

Sarah and her sister looked confused.

"Messed up? How do you mean?" Sarah asked me.

"Well, I just saw some color and unrecognizable images flash through my head. The potion just didn't work on me I guess. I guess I'll have to see what I fear most in third year, with a boggart. Whatever that is."

Sarah and Jo stared at me strangely a while longer, and then went up to bed. I told them that I had a bit of homework to do and would be up in a bit.

But I just stared into the fire, thinking hard. Why had I seen nothing? I knew there were things I feared, or at least I thought. Didn't I fear falling off a broom in Quidditch? Getting into trouble with a teacher? My family getting hurt? Those dreams that I kept having? Coming to Hogwarts and getting sorted? And lots of other things. I knew there were things I feared.

Especially those dreams I had been having. Those usually woke me up screaming.

I picked up _Magical Drafts and Potions_ and leafed through it. I finally came to a page long section about the potion which I had just taken.

The page was basically a review of all that Slughorn had told us, until a part at the bottom of the page caught my eye:

_An exception or two shows up in __wizarding__ society. Not all can see the effects of this Draught of Dread. There __are the rare group__ which the potion has no effect on. Many wizards and witched have studied this phenomenon, ye__t it has not yet been explained. _

I sighed. That had been no help whatsoever. Perhaps the potion was just a dud. Like a piece of rotten food in a basket among fresh ones.

I gave another sigh and stared into the fire. I closed my eyes tight, and thought about my fears. I knew I had them, I just knew it. Everyone feared something, didn't they?

I looked around the common room, and realized I was the last in it. I glanced down at my watch. No wonder, it was just past one o'clock in the morning. Not a time when most were up and about.

I fingered the necklace around my neck, and then noticed something strange about it. It was ice cold. Laying up against my clothes, I hadn't noticed it, but when I touched it, it felt like an ice cube out in the Arctic Circle. That cold.

I took it off and rolled it around in my fingers. I noticed just then that it was sort of…throbbing. Not like a heart beat or anything, but sort of just…pulsing with some sort of force.

I narrowed my eyes at it. I had never noticed anything like this before, and I had worn it for almost six years.

I took out my wand and tapped it nervously. The necklace twitched violently. I tapped my wand against it again, this time green sparks emitting from it. The sparks struck the necklace, and before I could do anything, the necklace flung out of my nervous hands and onto the floor, where it lay and continued to twitch violently.

After a bit, it rose up in the air, and now I felt fear for sure. It just hung there for a while, until finally an unearthly shriek came from it, and a ghostly figure sprang out of one of the stones.

I realized it looked like the ghost I had met last night, the one who forgot her name. She was merely a ghostly figure, but was twitching as if she was in great pain. Her dress was torn, her hair matted down and falling limply down her back. Her eyes were sad and she appeared fainter than any ghost I had seen yet.

I led out a small shriek as the necklace collapsed into the fire. The flames turned a frightening black color, and I could hear the flames destroying my necklace.

The heat from the flames was intense, so intense that I had to back up and just stare into their midnight blackness.

The ghost was still in mid-air, but now staring at me. She asked in a voice I knew to be Elizabeth's, "Samantha, how did I get in here? Wherever am I?"

I was at a loss for words. How did Elizabeth get into my necklace? I just saw her last night, and the necklace was in my hand just then.

"I don't know!" I choked out, frightened. The fire was just getting bigger and much more heat was coming from it.

I backed up against a portrait, and the figure inside gave a loud "humph!" and marched out of the frame, muttering, "So rude. Just bumped right into me. Didn't even say sorry."

But I couldn't even apologize; I could only stare at the growing fire engulfing my poor necklace and the ghost just beside it. The flames made the ghost shimmer strangely, and their shadows danced on the walls in a fury. I felt as if I was surrounded by shadows and ghosts, and cowered just under the portrait.

Then, suddenly, the fire dyed down to become the orange and yellow flames that it had been, and the shadows on the wall reduced to what looked like arms waving.

The ghost was still staring around confused, her eyes searching every corner of the common room, finally coming to rest on the fire. And then she burst into flames.

Or what looked like flames. They were dark green, tall, skinny flames, engulfing her, encompassing her with their long arms.

My necklace in the fire place, which appeared somehow not to be damaged, was soon engulfed by the very same flames, right in the fire.

The green danced among the orange, and it would have been pretty if not for the situation. I could only stare openmouthed as the ghost disappeared with a loud pop, and the flames around her spiraled down to the ground, where they disappeared without leaving any mark whatsoever on the carpet.

The green flames in the fire dwindled, and there….my necklace was no longer there. It was just logs and fire.

But I didn't worry about that too much. All I could do was stare at the place where the ghost again, and then back to the fire. My head repeated this motion several times, until I heard someone coming down the stairs.

I quickly got out of my crouched position and stood up, brushing myself off.

A girl in dark blue nightgown with square-framed glasses entered the common room, looking around with an air of suspicion. I knew immediately it was Minerva McGonagall.

She glanced at me and narrowed her eyes. "Why all the noise?" she questioned, looking around for some sign of what had just occurred.

"Just…err, practicing my spells. My, err, levitating spells." I pulled out my wand and waved it around for effect, smiling innocently at her.

"At this time of night?"

"Well, of course! It's all so quiet and I can practice without being disturbed."

"Well, you're sure disturbing others. I heard some strange noises, and came to investigate. Did you break anything?"

"Oh, yeah, that was probably what you heard. But, I, err, managed to fix it."

"Well. Well, I guess I shall go back to bed now. You better too." Minerva glanced around the room once more and then headed up the stairs with a last backward glance at me. I waved innocently and when I was sure she was back in the dormitory, I walked over to the fire and peered into it.

My eyes only took in flames, and I collapsed onto the couch.

So, there was a ghost inside my necklace and I had been wearing it. And not just any ghost, it was the ghost of Elizabeth, whom I had just spoken to the night before.

I remembered she had told me that just that same day she had lost her memory, from a spell or something. But that didn't answer the question I was looking for. How did she get into my necklace?

There was no way. I had immediately went into the common room after last speaking to her, and….

Wait a minute. Tom had had my necklace, of course! What if he had done something to it? But that wouldn't make sense either. I talked to Elizabeth _after _I got the necklace. But I also talked to a Elizabeth who had no idea _who_ she was. And the one that came out of the necklace at least appeared to know her name and where she was.

I buried my face into my hands and heaved a sigh. I was in a very strange and confusing situation, not to mention that my necklace, which I had sacrificed a lot to go and get, was now gone, along with the ghost. Both just disappeared into the flames.

I was about to go upstairs when I heard a sort of scuffle just outside. It appeared as if someone was arguing with the Fat Lady. I couldn't hear the best, but then I heard a "Fine!" and then someone was coming through the portrait hole.

It was the ghost of Elizabeth.


	13. Magick Moste Evile

**The magic involving the ****ghost in the necklace in not a H****orcrux.**** The magic behind ****it is similar, but it is not a H****orcrux. Killing is not involved in this magic. I made this magic up, and I hope you enjoy reading about it. Please also review! This is my first fan fiction, and I need input from other people to know how I am doing. Without reviews, I don't know if this story is good or not so good. Thanks! **

"What?!"

This was the first word that came out of my mouth when the ghost of Elizabeth entered through the portrait hole.

She was dressed as I had just seen her, in a torn dress and with sad eyes staring at me.

I rose up from the couch, but just collapsed back down on it. I was in a very confused state indeed.

I watched as Elizabeth approached me, floating slowly. But as she approached, I saw her sad eyes suddenly change into warm ones, happy ones.

Once she was just a few feet away from the couch I was sitting on, I managed to utter, "Can you explain what is exactly happening?"

Her eyes saddened again, and she said, "I'm not really sure myself. But, I remember now. I know my name. It's Elizabeth Spetton, and I've been here at Hogwarts for four hundred years."

I could tell she was very excited that she could remember, but I wanted other information. "That's great. But why were you in my necklace? How did you get in there?"

The specter shrugged. "Like I said, I'm not sure. The only thing I could guess is the spell. Some boy came into that room, I remember now, holding a necklace. And he sort of muttered something, and then I was in more pain than I had ever experienced. I felt as if a part of me was being ripped in half. Which is exactly what happened. Because after I came out of the necklace, I found another ghost of myself in that room, and I just went over and slipped inside my other half, and, well, here I am."

"But what happened after you disappeared? You were in here, and then you were surrounded by flames, and then…you were gone."

"Well, the flames were very cold, I remember that. So cold, and so wet. Not hot and dry, but just the opposite. And next thing I knew, I could no longer see you and then I was just wondering about in the dungeons. I could remember then, but I still was in pain, like a part of me had been ripped out. And then I just found that room and my other self….I really don't know what happened…." She trailed off, looking quite befuddled.

I was too. Even more befuddled than her. I stared into the fire, which just minutes before had been black, thinking about my necklace.

"How about my necklace? Do you know where that went?"

She shook her head. "No, I couldn't even say where it could possibly be."

I sighed loudly and plopped down on the couch. My necklace was gone, Tom was making me very suspicious, and I had no idea what was going on.

Elizabeth noticed my sad face. "Well, you could always use a summoning charm."

I perked up. "What's that? Can you use that to retrieve things, like my necklace?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes. It's the charm 'Accio.'"

My brow furrowed. "I've heard of that! But isn't that a bit too difficult for me?"

"It might be," the ghost admitted, "but at least you could try. Now, take out your wand. Wave it like this. After that, say 'Accio necklace.' Maybe it will come. But you must concentrate hard."

"Accio necklace!" I shouted, concentrating with all my might. I scrunched up my face and closed my eyes and thought of my necklace coming to me. Come, I thought desperately. Please come.

But nothing happened. Either I wasn't advanced enough to use this spell or my necklace was gone forever. I let out a big breath of air in defeat.

"It's no use," I told Elizabeth. "I'll never get it back. But at least now you can remember."

The ghost nodded, smiling. "Yes, I came in to tell you. Do you still have that music box?"

I nodded, but said, "I don't like it one bit. Would it be okay if I destroyed it?"

"What?" Elizabeth looked offended. "Destroy it? Why ever for?"

"The music. The music makes my head swarm with these pictures of snakes and such. It's rather uncomfortable."

Elizabeth looked confused. "The music makes you see things in your head?"

I nodded for an answer. We were both silent until I asked, "Is that okay? I mean, did it matter much to you?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I never knew how the other half of myself got the music box. It was just the only material thing that my other half had. I guess it is a bit important."

"Well, I'm sorry, but it has to be destroyed. But tell your other half thanks for all the help yesterday."

Elizabeth smiled. "You're telling her that right now," she said in a joking tone.

She gave me a wave and disappeared through the portrait hole. I heard the Fat Lady stifle a scream, it must have been uncomfortable to have a ghost pass through you, whether you were a painting or not!

I knew I should have been getting back to bed, but I wasn't at all tired. Besides, tomorrow was Saturday; I could sleep in however long I wished.

And I had too much on my mind. I knew it was Tom. Tom that made Elizabeth forget, and somehow split a part of her into my necklace. But that was very strange; why would he do anything like that?

What was the point of splitting a ghost into halves and putting a part of one into a necklace? It was very odd indeed, and I promised that tomorrow, whenever I woke up, I would walk straight down to the library and research the splitting of…ghosts.

Q

It just so happened that I was the first to wake in the morning, the sun just above the horizon. Reds, oranges, and yellow filled the sky, making me smile at their beauty.

I watched as an owl swooped through the air, passing just in front of the sun, its wings sparkling in the morning light.

I made sure the music box was safe, and Clever the crazy toad fed and watered, and crept out of the dormitory, the others still asleep.

Even after just so little sleep, I wasn't tired. I had a mission: to go to the library and do a little research.

The Hogwarts castle was quiet in the mornings, both in the paintings and in the castle itself. The Fat Lady was particularly grumpy when I woke her up, muttering to herself, and eying me. "Hasn't this been the third time you have been awake when most others are asleep?" she asked, and I answered, "Probably has," and gave her a wave.

The portraits snoozed as I walked by, tiptoeing, so as not to wake them.

A golden light spilled through the lower windows, making the castle look much more beautiful than it already was.

I reached the library, and was happy to see that the librarian, Madam Biblio, already there.

She was sitting at her desk as usual, reading a book, which this time was The _Strange World of Specters_ by Hector Spook, which made me think of my mission.

She noticed me coming in, and glanced up at the clock. "Why, it's certainly strange for anyone to venture into my library this early."

I approached her desk. "You don't mind though, do you?"

"Of course not. What do you need?"

"Well, this time I was wondering about something entirely different. I was wondering about…err, its hard to put into words. Like splitting…well, er, like splitting yourself in two parts. Where you have a double. I mean," I stuttered, for Madam Biblio looked furious, " I mean, like being in two parts, one in an object…sort of. I mean….I don't know what I mean. Do you know?"

Madam Biblio appeared as if steam would start coming out of her ears in her fury. "DON'T YOU DARE TALK OF THAT! GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW YOUNG LADY BEFORE I CALL THE HEADMASTER!"

I scurried out of the library, well, ran basically. She really gave me a fright.

"Strange." I said to myself as I was out of the library. "Maybe she was just one of those people that are grumpy in the mornings."

I chuckled to myself, because I didn't understand what had made her so livid. I gave a shrug to no one in particular and headed to the Great Hall to eat my favorite, strawberries and cream.

Tom was there, as usual, and neatly eating some porridge. I ignored him and went and sat at my usual spot, where I, a few minutes later, spilt cream down my front.

I quickly looked around to see if Tom had seen. He hadn't, and I breathed a sigh of relief, quickly finishing up my breakfast, so I could go back up to the dormitory to change.

As I was walking, something dawned on me. The day before, when I had taken the Draught of Dread, it had not affected me. And now I knew why. It was because of the necklace. I had been wearing the necklace with the ghost inside it at the time I took the potion. Somehow wearing that necklace had made me repellant to the potion.

I felt better now. It had just been the necklace, the necklace that Tom had…I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to associate Tom with all these bad things that he had done. But he had done them. How could I not think of Tom and at the same time ignore the strange things that he had done, told me, or made happen?

After I got changed and crept out of the dormitory where all the four other girls were still sleeping, I made my way back down to the library. If Madam Biblio wouldn't help me, I would help myself.

Luckily, she didn't notice me come into the library, because she was busy helping another student search for a book on magical fungi.

I went to the section where she had found that book about Parseltongue for me, but as I searched almost every book there, I could find nothing about splitting yourself in half, or, a ghost for that matter.

I spent most of the morning hiding from that grouch of a librarian and looking for whatever you called I was looking for. Right before lunch, I had to say I was defeated. I had found only a reference to what I was looking for, but it mentioned the splitting of a human soul. But I figured it was all the same thing, and when I leaned in to eagerly read more, all it said was that it was magic too evil too mention. I put that book back on the shelf with a slam.

I was hoping if I could find something explaining what Tom did that I could get my necklace back, or at least understand what had happened the night before. But like I said, I found nothing. But then I remembered the Restricted Section.

It was near the back of the library, a rope separating it from the part I was in now. I knew that I would never get passed Madam Biblio; she would notice when anyone went to the Restricted Section. So, I would have to do this at night.

Q

I was ready to go at midnight that night, wide awake and ready for an adventure.

I took the candle burning next to my desk and held it steadily in my hands. I would need it in the darkness of the library.

I checked around the room to dormitory to see if anyone was awake; I sure didn't want to be reported. Luckily, all the girls were asleep, and I quietly slipped out and went down the staircase and out the portrait hole.

The Fat Lady looked like she was going to explode. "That's been four times young lady! What do you think you are doing, lurking about?"

I turned and smiled at her. She was looking very annoyed, so I said quickly, "Sorry, but I've things to do."

After a bit of a walk (I had to creep and peer around corners to make sure no teachers were about) I finally came to the library.

It was very dark, and the moonlight coming in through the windows shone on the bookcases and the books inside them, casting long shadows on the floor. The back of the library was in darkness, and it was here I was headed.

Holding out the candle in front of me, I stepped over the rope and rose the candle up near the first bookcase to look at the title of one book. I couldn't understand it; it looked like Latin.

I took it off the shelf and peered inside. It was musty smelling and the pages were so fragile that I was afraid they would break at my touch.

The words inside were in English, but that didn't mean it was easy to read. The words were long and old-fashioned. The pictures were gruesome also, showing what looked like people in pain.

I cringed at a particularly awful one and shut the book. It seemed as if this one was all about potions, or at least what I could tell by the illustrations (usually the people had an empty glass in their hands).

I picked up the book next to it. It was the same thing, about potions.

I moved on further down the shelf, but they were just more books about potions that I sure didn't want to try.

After a bit of a search, I finally found a book entitled _Magick __Moste __Evil__e _And, judging by all the books around it and how they were covered in dust, this book had just been recently used. There was very little dust on it.

Upon opening it, it let out a vociferous noise, and I quickly slammed it shut. But I had seen a word in the introduction that had caught my attention. I opened it very slowly this time, and, thankfully, it let out no more than a whimper.

I whispered along as I read: "'Among the most intricate stages of magic is that of capturing the soul of a ghost-that is, the part of the ghost that is which their memories, feelings, and original personality, leaving only a 'ghost' of their former self. This part is often captured inside a living being. The living being is then what we call simply 'half-dead.' That is, part of their self is filled with that of a ghost's. What this means is that that person often can, like a ghost, repel many potions and spells, excluding the Unforgivable Curses and a select few others. Often, the person can come out of a fight not damaged, and it is known with a part of ghost inside a living being, that person can often take up ghost-like habits, such as not sleeping, being almost transparent, and levitating. But this does not mean that the person is a ghost himself, it simply means that half of who they are is filled with a half of a ghost.

"'The spell for this, which we shall not mention, came from the dark wizard Alex the Atrocious, who, from what is known, had twenty three ghosts living inside him during his lifetime.

"'This spell is known only by a few, and the processes behind it even fewer. It is only used by a few dark wizards, many finding other techniques more preferable to make themselves resistant to some parts of magic. With the soul of a ghost inside the body of a living being, the person experiences great pain, often so great that it kills them in the end, as the case of Alex the Atrocious. The ghost can only escape during this such case and return to its other self, or, in other cases, a counter-spell can be performed, although it is said to be very painful.

"'The soul of a ghost can also be put into an object, which is less dangerous and less painful to do for the person performing it. The object, which has been known to range from a feather to a broom, will safeguard that person from what was listed before, but only if that person is touching the object. Because of this, many souls of ghosts find themselves in jewelry, which can be worn at all times and is quite common. However, the object is often described as being quite cold, and sporadically pulsing, which is evidently the ghost inside. Unlike the dismiss of a specter from a living being, the specter from an object can be dismissed in another way. Simply magical contact with another magical object can dismiss the ghost. A wand is a fine example.

"'The ghost, after being released on both occasions, returns to its other self and is, reportedly, fine afterwards. This whole type of magic is called the Horlop.'"

I finished reading. This was it! I had found what I was looking for! And everything made sense! The potion didn't work because I had the necklace on, when I tapped the necklace with a wand, another magical object, Elizabeth had sprang forth.

I was about to close the book when I thought better of it and looked to the next page. I read "'Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction.'"

I narrowed my eyes. Horcrux? Was it something like a Horlop? It must have been something much worse though, for them not even to tell even a little about it.

I shut the book, and it let out a ghastly sound, and I quickly stuffed it among the other books on the shelf, as to muffle its noise.

I blew out my candle and slowly made my way by light of the moon through the library.

I was near Gryffindor Tower when I heard something strange. It sounded a bit like a 'squawk!' or something similar. I peered around a corner, and there was the chicken, who students had began to name after the teacher that created it.

The chicken was pecking down at the ground, its head bobbing. "Hey Alondi," I said to it. I chuckled and made my way up to Gryffindor Tower, suddenly very tired.

The Fat Lady was certainly not pleased when I had to wake her from her 'beauty sleep.' Grumbling, she let me in after I gave the password.

I made my way up the staircase and into the dormitory, where I checked on Clever, gave him a few quick pats on the back, and then collapsed onto the bed, setting the candle just beside me on the dresser.

I looked over and out the window, where the full moon which I saw in the library rose over the grounds, spilling its light all over the place, making Hogwarts feel even more magical than it already was.

I sighed and closed my eyes, reviewing in my head the day's events.

So, it was Tom. He had done the spell. But why? Why would he want to do that? And at such a young age. I mean, that book was in the Restricted Section of the library! How could he know of it? How did he figure out the correct spell and thus proceed to perform it?

I knew Tom was brilliant and evil, but not _that_ brilliant and evil.

I heard a rustling in the bed near mine, and Mary was sitting up, staring at me. "Where have you been?" she interrogated me suspiciously.

"Just down in the common room, studying."

Her eyes narrowed. "Humph!" Was all she said in reply, and then turned the covers over her head.

"Humph to you too!" I quietly muttered, quiet enough so she would not hear it.

I turned my back to her and once again gazed out at the beautiful scenery. It made me think of my family at home for some reason, and how much I missed them.

I thought of my brother Paul. I really hoped he would become a wizard, and perhaps even the baby about to be born too. I was very excited at the thought. We had decided to name the baby Timothy if he was a boy, and Sally if she was a girl. I promised myself that I would take the train home on Christmas break to go and visit my family.

I wondered then about Tom's family. He said that his mother had died, and his father was probably a wizard, although he lived at an orphanage. It made me sad just to think about it. I had been away from my family only a few days, and I already missed them so much.

Imagine never seeing your parents. Poor Tom. Maybe that was why he was so cruel and mean all the time, he had no one to love him, care about him, teach him right from wrong. Perhaps at the orphanage he felt abandoned and loved by no one. But perhaps I could change that. Perhaps I really could. Before he would hurt anyone else, ghost or someone alive. I didn't want Tom to become that type of person. I decided I would start to care about him. Make him seem as if I cared, which, in fact, I did. I would try to listen to him, talk with him, whatever. But I would have to be careful to not get him to turn against me.

But I would do anything for Tom. I saw his potential. He had a brilliant mind, was a great wizard, and could probably actually be a good person if someone just cared enough about him to teach him right from wrong. I really wanted to be that person.

I laid down and shut my eyes, thinking about Tom. I thought about his features, his black as coal hair, his brilliant and bright eyes. He was a very handsome young man.

Before I knew it, I found a smile playing at the corner of my lips.


	14. Professor M

I made a big mistake! I just realized that a Professor Merrythought was mentioned in the HP books as being a D.A.D.A. teacher when Tom was at school. I completely forgot all about it. That's why I introduced a section of this story as Dandle being just a substitute, and Merrythought returning after a much-needed vacation! Please review!

For those of you that have already read this chapter: I originally had Merrythought as being male, but I just recently figured out Merrythought was female! So I changed some things around! And sorry if I skipped a place where I had Merrythought mentioned as male, but I think I got the majority of this chapter fixed up. Enjoy!

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That morning at breakfast I noticed a new teacher at the table. She was sitting next to Dippet, the headmaster, and munching on some bacon.

She looked like a nice woman. Her gray hair was pulled back in a loose bun, and she wore a black robe and a locket around her neck. She was a bit chubby, and I could tell by her wrinkles and her eyes that she was feeling her age. She had an enormous pair of glasses perched on her nose, a bit like Madam Biblio's.

I watched as the glasses slipped down her nose and landed in the pale of bacon she was eating. She glanced around the teacher's table to see if anyone had seen the little accident, and when she was sure no one had, put them back on, a few crumbs falling of the lenses and back into the plate in the process.

I giggled, and turned around to face Minerva, who was sipping orange juice.

"Minerva, who is that teacher up there? The one with the big glasses."

She swallowed and said, "Don't you know? That is Professor Merrythought. She teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"But I thought that Dandle taught that class?"

"Yes, but he was merely a substitute for Merrythought. No one told you?"

I shrugged me head. "No, I don't think so. So, she will be our teacher from now on? What about Dandle?"

"Well, she'll be our teacher until she retires, which she will probably soon, because she's quite old, something like ninety five or something. But yes, she'll teach us. And Dandle left, I guess. He isn't needed anymore; it was just that Merrythought had to go on what the other teachers called a 'much-needed vacation.'"

"Is she quite nice?"

"I'd say so. She is a bit quiet, but she's a great teacher. Nothing at all like Dandle."

I sighed in relief. Nothing at all like Dandle. That sounded rather nice. Dandle was easily one of the teachers I hated the most, and having this Merrythought come and replace him was a dream come true.

The rest of the Sunday I simply spent lounging out on the grounds enjoying the last of the warm weather, talking with Sarah, Jo, and Minerva. We had all become really good friends, and I had a lot of fun with them.

The next day, it did turn out to be quite an interesting lesson. With Merrythought, I mean. Not just the fact that she wasn't cruel and obsessed with the Dark Arts, but the fact that I, in the middle of class, asked about Horcruxes. Now that was a big mistake.

We came into the room, which already seemed much lighter and less dark. Dandle had usually kept the windows covered with black curtains, but Merrythought had replaced these with yellow ones, and had opened the windows to let the late summer sunshine in.

And no more portraits of Dark wizards hung on the wall, whose figures often leered down at the students and sometimes made rude comments. Instead, a large portrait of a white pony in a green field hung on the wall, the blue sky and the bright summer sun brightening up the room. I wasn't sure what a white pony had to do with the Dark Arts, but it was fine by me.

Merrythought smiled kindly as we entered, and spread her short arms wide. "Welcome everyone! Find yourself a seat and we will get acquainted with one another."

I quickly found a seat at the front, right next to Tom, who simply ignored me.

"Now," said Merrythought, looking at a piece of parchment she had in her hands, "now, raise your hand when I call out you name."

After this process was taken care of, and she had at least gotten to know our faces, she introduced herself.

"I'm Professor Galatea Merrythought, but just call me Professor M. Short and to the point, you know? But anyways, I'll be your teacher for the rest of the year; I was just on a much-needed break. Getting a bit old, you know?

"Today, for a little fun, I'm going to speak to you about the four Hogwarts founders. I know it does not particularly pertain to the class you are in, but I know not all of you have read _Hogwarts, A History_, so I'd like to talk a bit about the foursome who founded the school.

"They were Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, and Godric Gryffindor. The date is not for certain, but we believe that is was over a thousand years ago…."

She began to talk all about the four founders, and I found myself paying close attention. It was rather interesting, and I made sure to copy down notes.

After Professor Merrythought, or Professor M. rather, finished, she asked, "Does anyone have any questions?"

I raised my hand. She pointed at me and smiled. "Wood, right? Samantha Wood?"

I nodded. "But my question doesn't have to do with the lesson."

"No matter! You can ask me whatever you want! Ask way then!"

"Well, Professor M., I was wondering, well, what are Horcruxes?"

Her face turned pale. "Why do you want to know?" she asked me, trying to appear composed.

I didn't know what to say. "Uh, well, see…"

I trailed off, and her face finally turned back to its natural color. "See me after class," she told me, while the other students seemed a bit confused. I guess they had never heard of Horcruxes. But I noticed Tom looked very interested indeed.

After the professor talked a bit more to us about her class, the bell rang, and she called me up to her desk. I saw Tom leave reluctantly, as if he wanted to hear what this was all about.

"Let me repeat this. Why do you want to know Miss Wood?"

"Well, I came across it in my reading, and-"

"Your reading? What book?"

"Uh, I forgot the name of it." I really didn't want to explain to her that I had been in the restricted section of the library.

"What else did the book say? I mean, did it say anything more about them?"

"No, it said it was the darkest of all magic or something like that, and they wouldn't mention it any further."

The professor sighed in relief. "Well, I'm not going to tell you. You're only a first year, goodness me."

"But, then, what about splitting the souls of ghosts, sir? Is that similar?"

Her eyes widened. "Why ever in the world would you have been reading about that?"

I decided to tell the truth. Or most of it. "There was a ghost in…my, I mean, a necklace I found."

"You mean a part of a ghost?"

"Yes, sir. But then the necklace disappeared sort of."

"You found the necklace?"

"Yes, I did." I lied. Well, it was sort of the truth. I _had_ found it in Tom's dormitory.

"Where?"

"On the ground someplace."

"Someplace where?"

"I think on a parking lot."

She narrowed her eyes at me, her eyebrows furrowing behind her thick glasses. "Tell me all you know."

I sighed. I would have to make up a story that would not give away Elizabeth or Tom or me. "Well, I was in the common room last night, and my necklace felt oddly cold, so I tapped it with my wand. And then this ghost popped out sort of, and she told me her name, which was Sarah, and that she lived far away from here. And then she sort of burst into flame, and so did my necklace, and then both disappeared, but to where, I dunno. But last night I went to the library to look up information about what had happened, and I found it in this book, and right after it mentioned that, it mentioned Horcruxes, but didn't say anything more about them. I thought Horcruxes, you know, might help me further explain what had happened to me or something. I didn't know they were so bad, I mean, I'm guessing their bad by your reaction."

"They are bad," Merrythought agreed. "And I don't want you to talk about them ever again or look it up. Just forget about it, and since the necklace was not yours in the first place, don't worry about what happened either. However, I will have to report this to the headmaster. I'm sure-"

"OBLIVIATE!"

I heard a roar behind me, and then a rush of air and a light.

It hit Merrythought, and for a moment, she slumped down in the chair, and I thought she had either fainted or was dead.

I didn't even look behind me to see who had cast the spell. All I was worried about was Merrythought. I tapped her nervously on the shoulder. "Professor? Professor, can you hear me?"

Her head slowly moved away from the table, and she blinked at me confusedly, rubbing her forehead. "Uh, sorry, Miss Wood, I must have fallen asleep. Do you need anything?"

I looked at her with wide eyes, and then said, "Uh, no, I was just making sure you were okay. Bye!"

I quickly hurried out of the room, and out the door, when I slammed into Tom in my haste.

Then I understood. "What did you do to her?" I practically yelled. Luckily, we were the only ones in the corridor.

His eyes laughed at my horror. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean! What did you do to her? I expect better from you, Tom. Why do you do all these stupid things Tom? You stole my necklace, and then you put Elizabeth into it, and I have suspicions about a certain music box too! You are so smart, but you hardly ever speak to me. You haven't any sympathy. You are a very stoic person indeed. And what about that night you took me into that room? What was that? Were you planning to kill me or something? What is wrong with you?"

He smirked, but then his face went serious. "Tell anyone, and I will Obliviate your stupid self." He then walked off without a backward glance.

He had hurt my feelings, obviously, but, at least, he didn't Obliviate me, whatever that was.

I took a quick look in the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, and Merrythought seemed fine, and was organizing papers. But it was clear that whatever Tom had done had completely erased Merrythought's memory of what we had been talking about.

I sighed and headed outdoors to my next class, Care of Magical Creatures, where my hand was almost stung by a Billywig. Although that might have just been what I wanted. Professor Kettleburn said the blue insect that came here from Australia has a sting that causes giddiness and levitation. I really needed some giddiness right now, I thought, as I watched a student with a dreamy expression on his face float past me, and a roaring Kettleburn saying, "Stop that at once students! Too many stings could cause permanent and uncontrollable levitation!"

As Kettleburn went roaring about, trying to catch the pesky insects, I thought over what had occurred. So, Tom had made Merrythought forget. Okay, that was certain. But why didn't he do the same with me? I was sure that a person as cruel and self-centered as him was surely 'Obliviate' anybody. But he didn't. So, maybe, deep down inside that dark Tom, there was love and compassion. But mostly he was ninety-nine percent evil. Or even more than that, perhaps, if that was possible.

All in all, it had not been the greatest day.


	15. The Tap and the Snake

Please review! I will accept any reviews; just please tell me your reasoning behind why you like my story or don't like it. With your reviews, I will know if readers are actually enjoying this story or not. So, please review, even if it is just a review with a few words! But I'd also like to thank all those who put me on their alert list or favorite list!

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Winter swept onto the grounds of Hogwarts before I even knew it. One minute, the trees were red, orange, and yellow, and the air was crisp, and now a cold wind blew down from the mountains. 

The sun comes up later, and sets much earlier. And nights up in the Astronomy Tower now require a person to wear his scarf.

As the winter months blew in, so did Quidditch. The first game of the season was fast approaching; and it was perhaps the most anticipated game of them all: Gryffindor versus Slytherin.

I really hoped our seven person team would show the Slytherins who was boss, but I heard rumor that this year's Slytherin team had practiced almost every evening and many mornings, and that it was a fairly good team. They would be hard to beat.

But whoever won the Quidditch game did not matter so much to me as my present situation. My necklace was still missing, Elizabeth was still confused, and Tom still wouldn't talk about it at all. I needed someone's help desperately, but every time I mentioned Horlops, people would shiver, at least the people who knew about them. I had brought up the subject in Herbology, and Rose's eyes went round like the full moon. "Eek! Don't speak of that, Samantha! It is simply too evil for my ears!" And with that, she covered her ears, and went over to the nearest plant. She then moved one of her hands to the upper area of the leaf, in what I thought would be the gesture of covering its ears, if it had any, that is.

So, I remained clueless. But I really wanted my necklace back. I was hoping if I could at least speak to someone about the Horlops, they could help me find my necklace, or tell me more about the Horlop.

And then the idea came to me. I would write a letter to my mom. Maybe she had been told. At least it was worth a shot trying.

I went up to the dormitory and sat down on the bed. The room was empty; everyone else was eating in the Great Hall. Which gave me the opportunity to work in peace and quiet.

I took out a piece of parchment and a pencil from my bag, even though the teachers preferred quills. But it didn't matter; this was a letter to my mom, and I knew that she wouldn't be thinking to herself, "Oh, dear. I hoped that Sam used a quill."

Along with the pencil I brought out the letter I had received from Mom in the middle of October. It was very crumbled and folded, due to my reading it so often. In fact, I had practically memorized it.

I opened it again for perhaps the fiftieth time, and read over my mom's neat handwriting.

_Dear Sam,_

_Congratulations! Gryffindor is a great house, and I am very pleased that you were sorted into it. Be sure to live up to its two main virtues: bravery and friendship. I know you will, though. And I'm so happy that __school is going well! Your brother keeps begging me to take him to Hogwarts because he so badly wants to __see you. Please come by at Christmas time, so you can see your new baby sister!_

_Yes! You have a new sister! We named her, instead of Sally like we had planned, "Rosemary". Your father and I just took one look at her and knew she was __a Rosemary. __A Rosemary Jane Wood._

_She was born on September thirtieth, and she has gotten especially attached to your brother. And he seems to really like her too. Why, just the other day, I caught him singing a lullaby to her when it was her nap time and she had awoken. It was so very sweet!_

_There is also something else I thought I might mention. The effects of the war can clearly be seen now. I see it in people's faces on the street, and food, at the moment, has begun to be rationed. We still get, plenty, yes, but I fear it is going to be much worse. Your father brings news from the factory every day of the horrors happening, and the paper is loaded with sad news._

_But please don't worry about us; I just want you to be prepared when you come home. The atmosphere is just different._

_I love you, and miss you. And the owl's name is __Lwo__. Your brother made it up after I taught him how to spell "owl." He pronounces is "Lo-__wu__." The owl is kept in a cage in the living room, and we often let it out of the evenings to stretch its wings and get its supper. It is a suburb pet indeed! And I'd also like to mention that he likes __broccoli__, so you if have any of that at Hogwarts, give him some, won't you?_

_How is that Tom boy you mentioned? Are you two friends?_

_Miss you so, and I love you so much! _

_Mum_

I smiled and folded the paper up, tucking it down in my suitcase.

I thought about the new baby, Rosemary, and how much I wanted to see her. And my brother, too! And Lwo! And perhaps even my grouchy old neighbor that likes olives in water.

I smiled, thinking about home. But then my smile began to turn into a frown. I had already known about the war, but didn't know it would get like this. I made myself promise I would do anything for my neighbors or family I could when I returned for Christmas.

I heaved a sigh, and began to write.

_Dear Mum,_

_Hurray! I can't wait to visit little Rosemary Jane. Don't tell me what she looks like; I want it to be a surprise!_

_Unfortunately, there was no broccoli for breakfast the day I got this letter, but __Lwo__ seemed fairly content with the biscuit with jam on it that I gave him. He's a very fine owl._

_I was wondering if you knew anything about __Horlops__, or Horcruxes. Don't ask me why I want to know. Just explain about them, please. I rather need to know, but whenever I approach the subject to teachers, they get rather angry. I hope you know about these two things._

_Well, Tom is okay, I guess. He is quiet, but brilliant. He is the first in all my classes to master a spell, or make a potion. And he always __does everything so well. But there is something about him that is frightening. To put it frankly, Mum, he makes me feel frightened when I am around him. But don't worry. Maybe it is just the nervousness and anxiety of starting school._

_We will soon be having our first Quidditch game. It's Gryffindor against Slytherin. I'm not a player myself, but I still look forward to the game. The position of Chaser interests me best. __You too?_

_I have met some friends, although I may have mentioned them in the last letter; I don't remember. __Minerva is a very smart witch, and very rule-abiding.__ But she's a fellow Gryffindor and a great friend to have. Abby is a __Ravenclaw,__ and we often talk in Astronomy. She's bright and very cheerful. Sarah and Josephine are two sisters that I have also met, and they are great fun! There are a few others I have talked to here and there, and I am really enjoying myself._

_I also won a special potion in Potions class that is called Felix Felicis. I had made one of the best potions in the class, and I was rewarded with a lucky potion. It gives you a few hours of luck, my teacher Slughorn told us. I plan to use it perhaps after Christmas break._

_All in all, everything is fine and dandy. (I sound just like Dad!) I hope you do well, and tell everyone that I love them and miss them. And please do invite ou__r cranky neighbor Ms. Rose over for tea. I think she would like some company, Mum._

_Your loving daughter,_

_Samantha J._

I smiled at my letter, took it up to the Owlery, and watched it disappear with a black owl into the fast-approaching night.

…….

I snuck out again that night. I really wanted to speak with Elizabeth, to see if she had figured anything else out about the situation we had been in.

But I didn't find her at all. Instead, I found three other people.

…….

The Fat Lady practically yelled when she saw me out again. "Ah! What is this? The fifth or sixth or…Oh, I have lost count of how many times! Why are you sneaking out so much young lady?"

"Oh, you know, I have things to do, people to see, and places to go. Overall, I'm a rather busy person!" I gave her a quick wave, and made my way down the set of stairs.

I had just turned down the Charms corridor when I heard a light cough just a few feet in front of me, out of the range of my wand's light.

I quickly put out the light from my wand, but it didn't stop the cougher from catching me.

I felt someone blindly grab my wrist in the darkness, and I stifled a scream. I tried to tug away, but the person just dug their fingers into my arm even deeper.

"Calm down!" I heard someone order quietly, but in a very strict tone of voice.

A heard a muttered "Lumos!" and by the light of the other person's wand, I could clearly see the owner's face.

It was Apollyon Pringle, the caretaker. He had a gruff beard, thick brown eyebrows, and wore his traditional cloak, brown and thick-looking. His black boots were very shiny, and his scraggly hair was all over his face.

He was about forty years old, I guessed, but it was hard to tell for certain. His dark brown eyes studied me for a moment. "Aha! A student out of bed!" He roared. He then said gruffly, "Come with me."

He let my arm go, but I dared not run away. I followed him down the Charms corridor, past some portraits of wizards arguing about who knows what, and then down the stairs into the dungeons.

"Where are you taking me, sir?" I asked. I was getting a bit nervous. I had never heard of the caretaker being that bad and strict of a man, but I knew he did his job well.

"To my office. I'm going to call the Headmaster and get you prop'ly punished." He led me into a room near where I had met Elizabeth.

The room was dark, but a big window let in some of the waning moon's light. I then realized that what I was seeing out the window could not be real. How, for instance, could a window be in something underground? I frowned and thought of the room Elizabeth had been in. That had had windows. Must have been some sort of Hogwart's magic, having windows underground in the dungeons.

But it was not the time to discuss windows. It was the time, apparently, for punishment.

Pringle's room was nice and orderly. The desk was made out of polished wood. Several portraits in polished wooden frames to match the desk hung on the stone walls. Or stuck there by magic, most likely. I saw that they were mostly portraits of what looked like a family. The portrait nearest the door was of a man in a brown cloak with a cap on, his stringy hair falling over his brown eyes. I noticed that he had the eyes of Pringle. They must have been related.

Most of the other portraits were of other people with brown hair and eyes, but I did see one of a blonde witch with sparkling blue eyes looking tenderly at Pringle.

Pringle went over to his desk, gave the portrait of the blond lady a smile, and pulled out a drawer filled with many files. The files themselves were filled with many pieces of parchment.

He pulled one out, labeled "Out of Bed Afterhours." He took out a clean sheaf of parchment, dipped his white quill into an ink bottle, and asked, "What is your name, young'n?"

"Uh, Samantha Wood, Sir."

"Gryffindor, I'm guessing?"

"How did you guess?" I was genuinely amazed.

"Ah, well, most reports of students kept in this folder here are of Gryffindors. Just like the ol' Sorting Hat says, Gryffindors are those of bravery. And bravery certainly involves sneaking out at night afterhours."

I watched as he jotted down my name, and put the parchment back into the file, which looked slightly bulged.

He caught me staring. "Oh, yes, many students get caught out of bed afterhours. Why, in my twenty or so year career here, I have caught at least a thousand students. Perhaps more. You are just another one to add to that growing number.

"Now, before I call the Headmaster, could you tell me what you were doing out so late, Miss Wood?"

"Uh…sleepwalking, sir."

"Sleepwalking?" He looked at me warily, stuffing the file back into the file cabinet.

"Yes, sir. I sleepwalk almost every night. It is a bad habit of mine, and I just can't seem to control it."

His eyes narrowed, glaring at me. "You seemed fairly awake when I grabbed you." I could tell he was seeing through my lie.

"Well, sir, I had awoken just a few minutes before, and lit my wand to see where I was, and then, suddenly, you were there. I'm so sorry if I disturbed you or anyone else, but it really was not my fault. I didn't realize that I was sleepwalking, sir."

He grunted, opened the file cabinet and took out the same folder. I watched as he took out the piece of parchment with my name on it. He jotted something down, and then put it back in the file. He returned the file then to the drawer.

"Well, I guess I'll let you off the hook this time. I shall not be calling the Headmaster or anyone else for that matter. I just better not catch you out and about any more, sleepwalking or not. And I can't even know for sure if you were truly sleepwalking this time...

"Well, since I'm not going to call the Headmaster, you still deserve a little something for being out of bed afterhours. I think a nice detention would do the trick, huh? What do you think?"

I gave him a wry smile, and he adjusted some papers on his desk. "Be in my office Saturday night at six, and I'll have you some work to do. Don't bring anything; just be prepared to stay an hour or two."

I nodded in agreement, and felt a bit sick to my stomach. I was really not the type of person to receive detention. Back when I went to a non-magic school, the only time I had gotten into trouble had been when I brought a frog to my third grade classroom and let it loose. That had been a very fun time indeed.

I smiled at the thought, and then turned my attention back to the caretaker. "Will a letter be sent to my parents?"

"Yes, unfortunately. It is in the rules that all parents must be informed when their student receives a detention. That is just the way the school works. Your parents will be sent an owl tomorrow morning explaining the situation."

I gulped. I was not particularly fond of that rule, but rules were rules. I was about to ask when I could leave when I heard a scuffle just upstairs the room we were in. It sounded as if someone was bouncing a bunch a basketballs in the room above us, and, at the same time, banging something loudly against a wall.

"What the…?" Pringle began, staring up at the ceiling as if it could give him answers to what was happening above. "Stay right here," Pringle ordered me, holding up his hands and getting up out of his chair. He raced out of the classroom to go see what the entire racket was about.

I sat down in the chair placed before his desk, then noticed, by light of the fake widow or whatever it was, a large chest in the far dark corner.

It seemed very tempting to me, and I slowly walked over to it.

The chest was old, but quite elegant in design. It was made out of polished wood, of course, but the designs on the border were very intricate and full of symbols I did not recognize.

I opened the bottom drawer, which revealed more parchments than I had ever seen in my life. Words filled almost all of them; long, difficult words that just seemed scary looking at them. Some of the words came along with moving drawings, and most drawings were not particularly pleasant. They reminded me of the drawings in the potions books I had found in the Restricted Section.

I leafed through the old, musty smelling parchments, glancing quickly at the words. "Zamotuti-toaut? What in the world?" I said out loud, looking at that word perched under a line of ink at the top of a particular piece of parchment. I put the paper back down among the others, and decided that this drawer was just a drawer of a random bunch of papers with strange words on them that proved difficult to comprehend.

I shut the door, and glanced behind me. I still heard a faint racket coming upstairs, so I figured Pringle hadn't made it up there yet, or had simply not been able to settle the scuffle.

I then, out of curiosity, opened the drawer above. It was completely empty, except for an envelope in the very back corner of it, almost hidden in the darkness of the drawer.

I picked it up lightly and guiltily. Really, I should not be going through Pringle's things, but this chest had just a sort of pull that made me want to know what it held inside. Secrets? Knowledge about Horlops or Horcruxes?

I eagerly took the paper out of the already unsealed envelope.

I unfolded it and looked at what it held. I frowned. I was expecting words, not a map. But a map it was. And, as I looked closer, it appeared to be a map of Hogwarts!

Yes, it was! Gryffindor Tower lay right where it should be. The Great Hall was labeled and I could even make out five long tables inside it, labeled according to the people who sat down at it.

I traced my finger down a passageway, smiling excitedly. Then, all at once, just as my finger had reached the section where the passage led to a set of stairs, my finger suddenly felt on fire.

"Ouch!" I cried, pulling my injured finger off the map. My index finger had a slight red look to it. Somehow, the paper had burnt me.

I looked down suspiciously at it. I didn't see any culprit. Only halls, stairs, and all the other rooms found inside Hogwarts, each labeled neatly in cursive.

I looked at the area around where my finger had gotten burnt. Nothing unusual.

I sighed, looked behind me, and gingerly tucked the paper into my robes, closing the drawer. I blushed. My conscience was getting the better of me. I knew that stealing of map of the caretaker's was wrong, but this map could come in handy.

I sat back down and stared at the portraits on the wall. They seemed to be looking accusingly at me. "Shh!" I said, raising my finger to my lips, indicating for them to keep my thievery a secret.

Most of the portrait's subjects narrowed their eyes at me, but one finally said, "Just let the girl have it. Apollyon doesn't use it anyhow."

A few of the other portraits nodded in agreement, but the one of the blond haired lady didn't look as pleased.

I hung my head guiltily and turned around just in time to see a frazzled caretaker come huffing in, his hair looking like eggs had splattered all over it.

"It was Peeves, of course," he panted, walking over to me. "He was bouncing off the walls and floors with what I suspected some sort of Muggle ball, and banging pots and pans around on the walls. Making music was what he called it. Humph, more like making a racket and making me angry. But when I told him this, I realized, unfortunately, he was armed with a basket full of eggs. Thus…" He indicated his hair. An egg yolk, as if to further demonstrate his bad situation, fell through his hair and onto his shoulder. It made a gross, wet sound.

He sighed and said, "Now, don't forget. Detention, Saturday night." He then gestured me out of the room, coming along with me. He shut the door behind him and said, "And now, for a good clean bath. I can't wait to get this mess out of my hair."

Now, as I mentioned earlier, I met three people on this midnight journey. Pringle was just the first of the three.

I was heading back to Gryffindor Tower when I realized I was lost. Yes, I most certainly was. I reassured myself that I had familiarized myself with the entire castle, but I knew that that was a faux thought.

I looked around at the corridor I was in. Nope, it was totally unfamiliar. I had never seen that portrait before, or that window over there. I heaved a sigh.

I began to walk forward, just seeing by the moonlight. I really didn't want to light my wand, because I sure did not want to get caught.

Before I knew it, I ran right smack dab into a door. I bit my lip in surprise, and my wand fell out of my hand. I reached down to grab it, but realized that I couldn't find it. Great. This was just what I needed. A lost wand in the middle of the night in a dark corridor. Brilliant.

I rubbed my forehead and knelt down on my hands and knees, searching for my lost wand. I looked all around the floor, but to no avail.

Finally, I got up, and a realization hit me. Maybe my wand went under the door that I had bumped into! Yes, that would make perfect sense!

I made my way over to place where I had blindly ran into. I reached for the brass doorknob and opened the door, and there, sure enough, was the wand. It had simply rolled underneath the crack in the door.

I gladly picked it up, and hugged it to my chest as if it was the most beloved possession on Earth.

I then peered around me in the darkness.

It was a bathroom. A bathroom that appeared it was on the verge of becoming a toilet that should no longer be used. The sinks looked a bit cracked, and a few places on them were already chipped off. The mirror was cracked and stained a bit. The doors to the stalls looked very pathetic, too. Not too bad, bust just bad enough that if you had to choose between this bathroom and not going at all, you would choose to not go at all.

The moonlight streamed in from a group of windows near the ceiling. The place was silent and peaceful, no matter how dismal and gloomy it was.

I went over to the mirror above the row of sinks and peered at myself, tucking my brown hair behind my ears.

I lowered my head and stared pathetically down at the sink. I turned the copper tap so I could splash my face with some water. But there was no water coming out of the tap; it was stuck. I tried my hardest to turn it, and I was finally ready to give up when something caught my eye. There was something on top of the tap, unlike the other ones, which were simply plain.

I narrowed my eyes and looked down at it. It was a tiny snake, scratched onto it. It was greatly detailed, and very precise. Not just some student drawing a little doodle. This was greatly detailed.

I shrugged and went over to the other sink, and was happy to find that water gushed out of the tap. I rubbed it on my face, and felt much better.

I turned the tap off and looked around. I noticed there was a sort of ledge up near the ceiling. It was in front of a giant window, overlooking the bathroom.

But I didn't feel like I wanted to explore anymore. I really wanted to get back to the common room and go to sleep. But things don't always work the way you want them to

I was walking out of the bathroom when I heard a strange sound coming out of the darkness, at the end of the corridor.

I quietly shut the door behind me and leaned up against the door, breathing as silently as possible, daring to make no other moves.

But whoever it was must have heard me, and I heard footsteps approaching. I put my wand out in front of me as a safety measure and pressed up against the door. I hoped whoever was coming would pass me. After all, the corridor was almost in complete darkness.

But then I heard a muttered word, and the person's wand lit up almost the entire corridor, including me, crouched into the tightest ball I could manage.

I looked up at the person, but they were in darkness behind the bright light. I stood up in defeat and held up my arms as if in surrender. "Err, sorry, I, err, lost my way."

The person lowered his or her wand, and then their face could be seen. It was Rose, the Herbology teacher. I noticed her face looked red, as if she had a rash.

"Samantha, what are you doing out so late at night? I thought everyone was asleep. Except me, of course." She smiled and lowered her wand more, so the light was not so much in my eyes.

I was much comforted. I knew Rose would never give a detention. She was so nonchalant when students acted up.

"Uh, I lost my way back to the common room."

"Well, then, you better hurry up and find it. I had to go check on my plants, but Madam Fitwell would not let me leave. So I had to sneak out." She smiled at me, said goodnight, and continued on her way. I almost burst out laughing.

I watched as she disappeared into the darkness to go back to the hospital wing for treatment for her rash. I rolled my eyes and continued on my way.

Luckily, I soon came to a staircase that I thought I recognized. But I wasn't so sure. Hogwarts had so many staircases and passages and parts that I may have been on the way _away_ from Gryffindor Tower, instead of _toward_ it.

But I went up anyways, but that was a big mistake, really. Because just up the staircase and around the corner, I met Tom.

I already had the feeling that someone was standing around the corner when I finished climbing up the staircase. But I continued anyway, and ran right into Tom.

I banged into him, and our foreheads met with a thud.

"Ouch," I muttered, rubbing my already hurt forehead. I glared at Tom. "What are you doing out so late mister?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" He replied smartly.

"Hmm. Maybe you should. But it's really not your business."

"Then my being out so late is not your business either."

"Perhaps not, Tom. But I just know you are up to more mischief. More Horlops?"

He looked furious that I knew, but quickly put his face to his usual blank slate. "Horlops? Whatever do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean Tom I-Don't-Know-Your-Middle-Name Riddle! I looked them up, and I know what you did. I think I may just have it figured out, too!" I lied, trying to make myself look bigger and smarter than I really was.

He snorted. "Well, since you know, I guess there is no harm in asking you. Do you know what a Horcrux is?"

"Uh…no." I said, trying to be truthful to him. I started to play with my hair nervously.

Tom looked very disappointed. Obviously, he didn't know what a Horcrux was either.

I replied quickly, "But you'd better not even think about them Tom. I just mention their name, and people explode. They must be very dark. But, of course, I guess you wouldn't' care, well, let's see why. You already made a teacher go funny and forget. You already tried Horlops, and succeeded. You made Elizabeth suffer greatly. You stole my necklace. You then lied to me about it. And now it is gone. I think you have something to do with a certain music box, which I assure you, I will destroy. You laugh when people get hurt. Dumbledore, the best teacher in this school, doesn't even trust you. Which means I guess I shouldn't either. And that's a real pity. Because you're a brilliant young man, and quite cute in my opinion. It's a shame to see your talents go to waste!" My voice kept getting louder and louder, and I was practically shouting. I really had the urge to slap him, but instead, smacked him smartly on his wand hand, and marched off.

_There was an excellent demonstration of my temper_, I thought, as I looked behind me at Tom. He was simply staring after me, looking a bit shocked, but not like he felt sorry for all those things I had mentioned.

I turned around in a circle at the end of the corridor, realizing that I was going in the way I had came. I marched back, blushing furiously.

Tom's head followed me as I pushed passed him without even looking at him, and I when I reached the end of the hall, I began to run my way up the correct set of stairs to Gryffindor Tower, where the Fat Lady was none too pleased.

"Eek! It's after three in the morning, young lady! What do you think you are doing?"

"Uh…" I said, at a loss for words. I was about ready to make up an elaborate story, but the Fat Lady quickly said, "Well, guess what? I changed the password right after you left tonight, and I guess you'll have to wait till morning to get in!" The Fat Lady looked quite smug even after just being woken up.

"What? Changed the password?! That's not fair!" I stomped my foot and crossed my arms. My eyes narrowed as well. I was hoping I was conveying the image of looking quite angry indeed.

But the Fat Lady was not moved. "Well, it's not fair that you have woken me up so many a time this year! How do you think it feels for me? I'm trying to get my beauty rest, and here you come disrupting it!"

I thought about what she had said, and realized that I _had _been rude. Even though she was just a portrait, she was still a portrait that had feelings.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Really I am. I'll try not to go out so much at night anymore. I'll…try to, I guess. But I am rather sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?"

The Fat Lady glared at me, but the glare turned into a smile. "Well, now, it's okay, I suppose. But you don't have to do anything for me. Err, and the password didn't change; it still is what is what a few hours ago."

"Pickles!" I declared loudly, and gave her a friendly smile and a "I'm sorry" once again. The Fat Lady nodded at me, and then her head began to nod on its own. She fell asleep just when the door swung to. I couldn't help but smile.

I made my way up the stairs, but realized that I wasn't tired one bit, so I returned to the common room and sat at a desk near the window. I took the map out of my pocket and unfolded it. As I was looking over it, looking at a hallway labeled "Secret Passage," I began to feel a bit nervous. What if Pringle figured out I had stolen this? Surely at least one of the paintings in his office would tell him. My conscience was bothering me now; I had taken something without permission. I had _stolen_ something.

And then a horrible thought came to me: What if I was turning into the character of Tom? He had stolen, lied, done many things that I thought were simply horrendous. But then I had done something simply horrendous too; I had stolen something.

I looked at the map guiltily and promised to myself I would go and return it. Right this very minute.

I stood in front of the portrait hole. I knew the Fat Lady would explode with anger, but I had to return this map before I went crazy.

Luckily, however, deprivation of sleep must have had an effect of the Fat Lady. The portrait hole opened, but she just snored away. She didn't even bother to close it, but that didn't matter. Surely I was only the one out at night right?

Well, besides Tom, of course, who I was beginning to suspect didn't need any sleep at all.

But I found my way back to his office easily enough, and I was rather lucky, as he had forgotten to lock the door. _The eggs in his hair must have bothered him so much he forgot to_, I thought to myself, and chuckled.

I slowly opened the door, not wanting to awaken the snoozing portraits. Although I hoped one would see me return the map, that way they would know I wasn't as heartless as I had appeared to be earlier.

I made my way in the stone office, creeping like a tiger hunting prey.

I pulled my wand out and used it for light to put the map back in its correct drawer. Once I had shut the door upon the stolen object, I felt as if I was one hundred percent better. My conscience was clear.

I used the same path I had went on earlier to get to Gryffindor Tower: the one that passed the dilapidated bathroom.

As I passed the bathroom, walking quietly, I suddenly felt shivers go up and down my spine. I remembered what I had read about Salazar. It was supposed that this Hogwart's founder had built a secret chamber or something in the school. But so far, it had not been found.

I thought of that tap that didn't work and the little snake that had been engraved on its top. I gulped. Was that an entrance to the…whatever? Could it have been something connected to what Slytherin had built? It was a snake, and Slytherin's animals _was_ a serpent.

My eyes widened in the darkness. Had I found it? Had I really found it?

I quickened my pace in my excitement. I would just have to further read up on the secret room that Slytherin had likely built.

The Fat Lady simply swung shut behind me with a snore. Luckily, she was still sleeping, but the entrance to the common room had been open the whole time I was gone.

I nervously made my way into the common room. I was expecting to see something awful, but what, I wasn't sure; I just had the feeling someone has seen the open door and made their way into the common room.

But the red and gold of the Gryffindor common room just greeted me like always. Nothing looked suspicious. But I had the strange feeling that someone was in here that wasn't supposed to be.

I crept up the spiral staircase to the dormitory, and quietly opened the door.

The face of the clock, illuminated by the moon, read three forty-four. It was very late in the night, or very early in the morning, whichever way you wanted to look at it. But either way, there was no way I would get back to sleep tonight. I still had that creepy feeling that I was being watched.

I settled down on the covers, bringing Clever's cage up close to me. He was sleeping, breathing deeply and croaking every now and then, as if snoring in a frog's way.

I smiled at my favorite pet, and laid the cage back down on the floor. I stared at the ceiling, but didn't really see it. I had simply too much on my mind. Tom, for one thing. My first detention, for another. And that secret room or whatever that Slytherin had built. Had I found it?

I had the feeling that I knew too much for a first year. Surely, I wasn't supposed to know about things like Horlops or Horcruxes (even though I still wasn't sure what those were) secret rooms built by a Hogwarts founder, strange maps and who knows what else.

I turned over in bed, staring out the window at the dark grounds. The moon, if there was one visible tonight, was covered in dark clouds. I hoped that those clouds would not affect tomorrow's Quidditch game. I was looking forward to it bunches, because I was really interested in seeing what a wizard game was like. I was so accustomed to muggle games, so it would be quite interesting.

I shut my eyes and tried to clear my mind. I even tried counting sheep. But nothing worked; my mind was a book of thoughts. A big book of thoughts, perhaps a thousand page long book of thoughts.

There were so many questions rolling around in my noggin that I couldn't even feel tired at all, let alone go to sleep.

After what felt like hours, I saw the faint glow on the horizon that meant the sun was welcoming the day. It lit up the grounds like a flashlight would at night. The light rose over the trees of the forest, making it seem less spooky than before.

But everything went wrong when the clouds I had noticed just a few hours earlier rolled in with the sound of thunder, covering the pretty morning sun. I had the feeling that this event would just be the start of a series of events that would ruin by whole day.

I got up reluctantly to welcome the day. If you could call it "welcoming the day," that is.


	16. The Game Called Quidditch

Sorry it took me so long to update; I have been busy! Also, my updates will probablybe less and less frequent now, until school ends. But I'll try to update at least once every two weeks. Please review!

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The whole of Hogwarts was making its way down to the Quidditch fields for the Slytherin versus Gryffindor game. I heard excited voices, kids joking around, and saw the determined look on many students' faces. I could tell that the owners of these faces really wanted to win this game. 

Fortunately, the clouds had rolled off in the distance, with just the sound of thunder to remind us that they could possibly come back.

I sat down next to Minerva, Jo, and Sarah. We all supported Gryffindor with our red and gold scarves, flags, and badges.

The Slytherins, on the other hand, were decked in apparel of green and silver, strongly contrasting the colors of Gryffindor.

But both sides cheered just the same; loud roars echoed down from the stands onto the green field, where the Quidditch teams soon marched out.

The only Gryffindor Quidditch member I knew was Neil Franklin, a seventh year that sat near me at the table in the Great Hall.

I knew only one of the Slytherin team members, and that was a girl named April something.

All the other team members I may have recognized by face, but not by name.

Professor Newtal was the referee. He was in the middle of the field, staring up at the sky, perhaps wondering if it would remain clear of storm clouds.

Both of the teams grouped around Newtal, the Slytherins staying on his left and the Gryffindors on his right. A few times I caught the team members glaring at one another. Perhaps this Quidditch was more intense than I thought.

I then saw the captains, I assumed, shake hands. The larger boy, a Slytherin, sneered at the smaller boy in red, who sneered even more back at him.

And then Newtal blew the whistle he wore around his neck, and everyone took off on their brooms into the air, to their assigned positions.

"An amazing takeoff for the fourteen players!" Shouted a voice, and I saw a fifth year from Gryffindor doing the commentary.

"And James Stewart of the Gryffindors has made an excellent dive for the Quaffle...and he's got it! That brilliant chaser has captured the Quaffle, and is off flying across the field. And he passes it to Joni Carroll, who in turn passes it to Alice Jones. Great pass, by the way. And there goes Alice, I think she's going to make it! Keeper Thomas Taylor of the Slytherins is no match for her; she made it! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

The wave of red and gold exploded in cheers, and the Slytherins exploded in opposites: boos and hisses.

"And now Chaser LaurenCotton of the Slytherins has gained possession of the Quaffle. She'd better look out for that Bludger. Shucks; she swerved and missed it! And thereCotton goes! Block her Neil!"

I saw Neil, who was the Keeper, make a mad dive to try to stop the ball going through the hoop. But the ball simply sailed through his outstretched fingertips and sailed on through the hoop. Now we were tied ten to ten.

"And there goes Joni Carroll with the Quaffle. Fast as lighting she's flying! She's got one of those new Nimbus 1950s! But Beater Ryan Gordon of the Slytherins with his StarSwept 1930 just put Joni to a stop with his smack of the Bludger!"

And indeed Joni was stopped. She hadn't swerved in time, and the big, fast flying ball had smacked right into her Nimbus 1950 broomstick. The broom spiraled in the air like a merry-go-round, but much faster, and Joni soon lost control of the Quaffle. The boy doing the commentary continued to update us:

"And Chaser MacDougal has captured the Quaffle, dropped by Joni! And off he goes! Get him Boots!"

For a moment, I was confused why he was yelling at boots I couldn't even see to "get" MacDougal. I mean, where did those kind of shoes come in place in Quidditch? I sure didn't know. But then I understood.

Two people who each had a head full of blonde hair and almost looked exactly alike were racing around the Quidditch field, clubs in hand. They were each heading for the Bludger; their job as Beaters to whack it over to the other team.

I watched as the one with glasses used his short club-like thing to whack the Bludger toward MacDougal, but the Slytherin had been expecting it; he easily swerved the fast-coming ball, and threw the Quaffle into the hoop. The Keeper, Neil Franklin, didn't even get a chance to defend the hoop, because MacDougal was so fast.

The whole of Gryffindor groaned as we fell behind ten points. And the game just continued to get worse for us from there.

Slytherin Beater Ann Perks knocked poor Chaser Joni Carroll out, and the Gryffindors had to continue with only two Chasers, which seriously endangered the game. The Chasers we needed; they were the people who scored us points besides the Seeker (if they caught the Snitch that is).

The Chasers belonging to the Slytherin team were so skilled and swift that Neil Franklin barely had time to maneuver before they had sunk the Quaffle through one of the three hoops.

Right in the middle of the game, while the commentary was going on, I saw a Boot brother go up to a short, skinny boy way above the field and point at something.

And then the skinny boy was off, his orange hair flying. I had never seen anyone fly so smoothly or quickly. I was quickly fascinated as I watched him swerve and dodge, dodge and swerve.

He, I knew, was after that ball called the Snitch, which had the famous reputation of being fast as lightning and as furious as a storm at sea.

But, unluckily, a girl with short, black curly hair had seen the Boot brother point, and was just right after the other Seeker, soon on the tail of his broom. She, I noticed, was moving even faster, if that was possible.

I hadn't even seen the Snitch at that point. I wondered how they could, in all the confusedness of the game.

"And there go the two Seekers, both trying to earn their team one hundred and fifty points! Can the brave and noble Gryffindors overcome Slytherin's 50 point lead and capture the Snitch, earning them 160 points total? Or will the somewhat stupid Slytherins-"

He was cut off by Rose, who was sitting behind him. Shewhacked him on the head with a magazine she had been reading, most likely about plants. He grimaced at her, mouthed, "Sorry!" and continued the commentary, sure to not insult the Slytherins anymore.

"Err, sorry about that folks, Slytherins especially. Now, where was I? Oh yes! Can the uh…_smart_ Slytherins capture the Snitch and win with two hundred ten points? Can Seeker April Greenbaum conquer Gryffindor Seeker Steve Bell? Get it Steve!" The boy doing the commentary suddenly shouted in a very excited voice, practically at the edge of his seat and bouncing crazily around in it, watching the Seekers' every move.

Steve Bell had just put on a burst of speed, but then something not-so-good occurred.

"OH NO!" the whole of Gryffindor shouted, teachers included.

Steve Bell had been so intent on capturing the Snitch that he was paying no heed to the Bludgers zooming all around the place.

Thus, Beater Ann Perks had hit Steve Bell with a sickening "thud" on his side, causing him to spiral toward the ground, holding his injured side with a brave grimace.

When he landed on the grass, a group of teachers rushed out to his aid, but the game continued on. But I wished it hadn't, because that left only one Seeker. A Seeker who was dangerously close to the Snitch.

Ann Greenbaum stretched out her hand toward the quick flash of gold that I knew was the Snitch. She cleverly avoided a Bludger hurdling toward her sent by a Boot.

And then she put on a burst of speed, and had the little ball in her fist, and the Slytherins erupted in a mass of shouts and cries and hollers of happiness. Slytherin had won: two hundred ten points to just ten. _How pathetic_, I thought to myself.

All the students and teaches supportingGryffindor house immediately slumped their shoulders, clearing demonstrating our disappointment.

The Gryffindor doing the commentary, who I learned later was Ben Berman, even used a few unruly words to voice his disappointment, which echoed out onto the grounds, heard by all. Dumbledore, who was next to him, gave him a very stern glance indeed, but I could Dumbledore was just as disappointed as Ben was at our loosing.

The Slytherins further made obvious their happiness over winning by booing toward us, and then Seeker Alice Greenbaum did a few showoffy twirls on her broomstick in mid-air, causing the Gryffindors to hiss, and her to break into a wide smirk.

I was clearly disappointed too. I really hoped that the Gryffindors could win over the Slytherins and show them who was boss, but I guess the Slytherins did instead.

I scanned the crowd of kids and teachers for Tom, to see what he made of his side's victory. But no boy with jet-black hair and a pale face could be seen. _Where could_ _he be?_ I wondered, and had the feeling that perhaps Tom had not seen the game at all, but instead had been in the castle the whole time. He had probably been up to his sly ways while everyone else was watching the game.

"Shucks!" cried Jo beside me, standing up and looking sadly at the Quidditch field. "Well, there's always next time I guess. Maybe between now and then we will improve."

"I bet we could have won if the Slytherins hadn't been so unruly!" Her sister Sarah said, standing up and using the same tone as Jo's. I at the moment could easily tell the two were sisters; both had the same expression of sadness over the loss of the game on their faces.

Minerva, I saw, was standing up and shaking her fist at the Slytherins. She must have been an avid Quidditch fan, I reasoned, because I had never seen her act this way before.

After things calmed down, the students went back to the castle for supper. The Slytherins were a big, happy, joking group, while the Gryffindors were a bunch of sad, slumped people moseying along. Clearly, Quidditch was a big deal here at this school, but I totally understood the feeling.

I looked up to the sky before we entered the building, and I saw dark storm clouds moving in on top of us. I heard the rumble of many thunders, and then a hard, cold rain began to fall, hitting me on the head. It seemed to be mocking me over the loss of the game. I walked sadly in, shivering and wet.

wWw

But supper greatly cheered me up. Cherry pie was served for dessert, one of my personal favorites. I dug into the crisp and sweet pie, trying to get as many cherries out of the pan as possible.

As I sat there enjoying the delightful dessert, I felt someone tap me quickly on the shoulder. I looked up, quickly wiping mymouth free of cherries. It was Tom.

"Hi! How are things?" I asked him politely, very confused why he had approached me. I never expected him to come right up to me and tap me on the shoulder.

"I gotta show you something," he said in reply, his voice more excited than I had ever heard it.

I was very startled. Tom…excited? I thought I would never see the day.

"Sure, okay. Just let me finish this pie." I shoveled another forkful of pie into my mouth, smiling at its perfect flavor.

Tom stood impatiently beside me until I finished. I said a quick goodbye to my friends, who really hadn't been paying attention because they were so focused on discussing the game.

I followed Tom out of the Great Hall into the Entrance Hall, where we stood face to face, his eyes showing his excitement.

"Okay. Show me it." I ordered Tom, getting a bit excited myself, but not in a good way. It being Tom who wanted to show me something was not a good sign. I hoped I wouldn't find something horrible.

I expected for us to go down to the dungeons, but that was not the case. Tom led me up several staircases before we stopped at a corridor on the seventh floor.

"Uh, Tom? Where in the world are you taking me?" I asked, looking around. I absolutely now had no idea what he was going to show me up here. I rarely explored the seventh floor.

"Just follow me," Tom ordered, gesturing with his hand for me to follow. I reluctantly obeyed.

After a while we stopped at a tapestry that made me laugh. It was Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach a group of trolls the ballet. I laughed as the poor man unsuccessfully demonstrated to a particularly large troll how to do the ballet. The troll simply twirled and fell over on his face. I just had to laugh.

"Is this what you wanted to show me, Tom?" I asked, but I had the feeling that a funny tapestry did not interest Tom. I was right.

Tom then, in front of a blank stretch of wall, furrowed his brow and walked passed it, muttering to himself all the while. He repeated this three times, and then, to my surprise, something happened.

A polished door sprang out of the middle of nowhere on the what-was-once blank wall. I stared in awe as Tom grabbed the brass handle and pulled the door open, and I followed him into the room inside.


	17. The Mirror in the Room

Wow! Thank you all so much for reviewing! If you could still review once in a while, please do so, that way I can know if you still like my story! Thank you so much!

In this chapter (one of my personal favorites) we see the more sensitive side of Tom. I know in an interview J.K. Rowling mentioned that if Tom looked in the Mirror of Erised, he would only see himself, all powerful. Well, the Mirror of Erised pops up again in this chapter, and Tom sees something quite a bit different. Remember, though, Tom is only almost twelve years old, and his feelings may have been very different than the ones he got as he grew older. Tom is still a little boy, longing for someone to love him! 

Also: It might be a bit before my next update. I'm so sorry! It's just that I think I will be busy with school this week, and the next, but I will try to update soon as possible!

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We entered the room, and I stared with wide eyes. I saw the most junk I had ever seen in my life, and I had sure seen a lot of junk in our attic.

The room was perhaps the largest room I had ever seen. It seemed about half the size of Hogwarts, and it spread far in all directions, way off in the distance. The room had windows way up there near the ceiling, and the gray evening sky light came through them, giving the room a somewhat eerie look. Tall, long walls ran all over the place, made up of all sorts of stuff, from old books to candy wrappers to furniture. Aisles ran between these huge piles, and random piles of all sorts of stuff took up the space in the aisles. I gasped at the food, furniture, books, toys, quills, stuffed animals, empty cages, hats and other clothing items, globes, and many other things in the room. It seemed as if I was looking for something, anything, I should come here. I immediately thought of my necklace, the one that I had lost. 

"Tom! What is this room?" I gasped, trying to still take it all in.

"I'm not sure what it is called exactly. I just found it. But I need your help. Follow me." He then took off at a jog, and I quickly dodged a pile of what looked like toy tops (except they had eyes and were slightly moving) and followed Tom down the aisles between the tall walls made of up of junk. I saw a lot of things that looked like they had been damaged by magic, such as the chair I saw that was groaning and moaning and hopping around. I saw broken wands, and more broken furniture, and even a bloodstained axe.

Tom and I made our way though the stuff, he quite a bit in front of me, jogging determinedly.

We finally stopped at the very back of the room, which was a wall made up of even more stuff. I huffed and puffed, and put my hands on my knees.

"My, Tom! That was one jog! How big is this room anyway? A mile long?" I asked him, peering around me at the dizzying amount of objects of all shapes and sizes.

"Perhaps. But follow me," Tom ordered, gesturing for me to follow him between two huge piles of top hats.

"Uh…" I began, not-so-sure. "Uh, where are you taking me?" I stopped before the pile of hats, afraid to go on. I didn't want to seem chicken, but I had the feeling what Tom was about to show me, or ask me for help with, was dangerous, something not to be messed with.

"Just come on," Tom said, gesturing vigorously, and disappearing behind a mound of old, thick books with leather covers.

I looked around once more, and decided that I would just follow Tom; I sure did not want to get lost in all this mess of things and not find my way out until I was gray-headed.

I followed Tom behind the books, barely having enough room to squeeze between the two piles.

I then, along with Tom, found myself in a small enclosure made out of the walls of objects, some tilting precariously. But that was not what I really noticed. What I _really_ noticed was what was in the middle of this enclosure, just sitting there. It looked like a mirror, but it sure did not show my reflection. I stepped close to it and stared at what should have been a reflection of me, looking startled, but wasn't meat all.

The mirror, I had noticed before I took a look at what it showed, was a grand one. It was very tall, at least three times my height, and had a fancy frame of golden color. It was supported by two clawed feet, and near the top were some strange words. They read: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_. I had no idea what language that was in; I couldn't even venture a guess.

But all those strange words fled my mind when I looked in the mirror. I covered my mouth with my hand, my eyes bugging out as much as Clever's (the frog)did sometimes. I approached the mirror, simply staring.

It was me, or at least a sixteen or soyear-old version of me. I was sitting on a beautiful sloping lawn, overlooking the ocean. I could hear seagulls calling in the distance, and the crystal blue waves crashing onto the shore. Beside me were my parents, holding each other closeand looking more happier than I had ever seen them. My dad, especially, looked better, the lines of stress in this face he got from working had disappeared, and instead he looked quite young again. My brother, Paul, was beside me, except a bit older, about ten years old, it seemed. He was smiling up at me and my parents, and had a huge basket of yummy food in his arms.

My new sister was sitting next to him, five years old and looking very cute with her hair tied up in fancy, pink ribbons.

And there, beside me, staring at both me and the ocean, was Tom. He too was sixteen, and was very handsome in my opinion. He looked so relaxed sitting there, and I saw him reach out and grab my hand. My mirror-self gave him a sweet smile, and we both stared out at the ocean, where bunches of happy people were playing, swimming, or relaxing.

Thinking I was seeing things, I turned around in the room, looking for something that could have been causing the moving (somehow) reflection. But I found nothing. Somehow, the mirror was showing something that I had always envisioned: My whole family happy, and together, and not worrying about work or the waror money. Just happy and relaxed, and with Tom beside us, staring out at a place I had always deep down in my heart wanted to go and see: the ocean.

I sighed and looked at Tom. "What is it Tom? Why does it show that?" I whispered, and looked back at the mirror, smiling. I could not seem to take my eyes of the warm and friendly scene.

"Well, that's why I had you come. I saw something that certainly wasn't my reflection, but I think my future. I think the mirror shows the future. But my mum'sdead, so how can itbe...? Maybe they lied to me..." He seemed now to be talking to himself, and then turned around and asked me, "Is that what you think you see? The future?"

I stared deeply at the mirror. No, I knew that was not the future. I knew it wasn't; my future would never be that warm and happy, especially with the war and with those many other hardships going on. I knew my family could never afford those kind of clothes we were wearing, or go to that spot on the beach and be so carefree. That would never happen, it would never be that perfect. 

No, the mirror was not showing the future, but something I wanted more than anything else.

"No, Tom, I don't think it shows the future. It's showing me something that I want more than anything in the world. But it's not showing the future. Why did you ask anyway?"

I could tell Tom was saddened, or perhaps even angered, I could not tell. But he said, "I thought what I was seeing was the future, and wanted you to look and see what you saw. If you saw something you thought might happen in the future, I would know for sure what I saw would happen." Tom said this very plainly; I could detect nothing in his voice.

He walked around and stared in at the mirror, and then up at the words. "Do you know that those words mean?" He asked, pointing to them.

I took a closer look and replied, "No, I don't think I do. I don't even know what language they are in."

We were both silent for a while until Tom said, "Try to read them backwards."

I found it a little difficult to do this, but finally managed to slowly read out loud: "I show not your face but your heart's desire." It took a while for the backwards words to click, but I finally understood. "Hey! I was right! The mirror does show what you want more than anything…your heart's greatest desire!"

Tom nodded. "I just figured that out myself." He said the words coldly and harshly, and I could tell he was either disappointed, or disgusted.

"Uh, Tom, what did you see in the mirror?" I knew it was a personal question, but I just had to ask.

"None of your business!" He snarled quickly, and then departed without saying a word. 

I was left there, staring at the pretty scene inside the mirror, when I began to cry.

The tears splashed down my cheeks, and I was not even sure why I was crying. I knew it had to do with what I saw in the mirror and Tom, but for some reason I could not think up any specific reason why all these tears were pouring out of my eyes, spotting my glasses and running down my face.

I had the feeling Tom had approached behind me, and was just standing there, but I could not stop the tears, and I knew I was blushing under all that wetness.

Finally, I managed to gain control of my emotions, and I used my sleeve to wipe away the tears on my face. I slowly turned around, and there, sure enough, was Tom, staring at me with a strange expression on his face.

I managed to say to him, "Sorry. I couldn't help it. But I'm okay now." I gave him a weak smile, and turned my back to him, peering in at the image inside the mirror.

"Do you really want to know what I see?" I heard Tom say quietly behind me. I heard his footsteps make their way over next to me, where he too began looking in the mirror along with me.

"Sure, I guess," I replied, even though I was not sure at all.

"I see…" He trailed off, took a breath, and began again, "I see my parents and me. My mum and my dad. We're just sitting and talking, but we're so…happy. We have our own nice house, and I don't even have to worry about that stupid orphanage. We are just together, and it's so nice….Someone actually cares about me..." He trailed off, staring at what I suspected for him his two parents and him happily spending time together. 

After a while he looked over at me and said, "Don't you dare tell anyone." His tone was harsh and cold, and I found it hard to believe such a tone could have come from a boy who just saw his family happily talking.

"I won't," I promised him, but then added, "But why does it matter? Seeing your parents is nothing to be ashamed about. Are you ashamed?"

Tom didn't say anything for a bit, but just looked at the mirror. I looked at it too, and smiled at what I saw. I could have gone on just looking at it forever, perhaps.

"No. I just don't want anyone to know that's my greatest desire or whatever. People might poke fun."

"No, they wouldn't Tom!" I exclaimed, looking sadly over at him. "Even if you are ninety-nine percent evil, and you just told me what you saw, I would never make fun of you. Ever. That's a very noble desire, you know? I bet some people could look into this mirror and see only themselves being rich, or being powerful, or ruling the world. You should be proud, Tom.

"Even though your mom died, most likely, that is,Tom, you still have a father. I bet he really loves you, too. But maybe for some reason he just couldn't raise you. I could help you find him, though, if you want. Maybe he himself needs help finding you." I gave him a warm smile, hoping he would smile in return.

But he didn't. "I don't need your help. I can find him myself." He took a final look at the mirror, and said, "Let's go. I know if I leave you here you will get lost; you have such a bad sense of direction."

I followed him out of the room, with one last look at my family, Tom, and me sitting, staring at the ocean, so happy. I really wished I could go to that exact moment right now. I reluctantly followed Tom out of the little room and into an aisle between the walls of objects, and then out the door, where I faced a group of trolls that seemed to be a bit tired of their ballet teacher trying to teach them how to dance. They were clonking him on the head with wooden clubs they held on their hands, and, despite the situation I was in, I had to chuckle.

wWw

It began to snow slightly as I boarded the train to go home for Christmas vacation. The pretty dots of white fell silently and softly from the sky, landing on my jacket, making little marks of white fluffiness that would soon melt.

I took one last look at the beautiful castle, lights inside aglow and cheerful, and the snowcapped mountains behind it, and climbed up the steps into the train, to go find an apartment.

My only friend that was going home for Christmas too was Summer, the smart girl in my dormitory. We sat and chatted, and I discovered that she collected Chocolate Frog cards.

"What are those?" I asked when she brought up how much she would like to have someone named Ptolemy.

Her eyes boggled. "Goodness, you don't know what Chocolate Frogs are? And we've been at Hogwarts quite a bit now!" She seemed thoroughly shocked, and I felt a bit out-of-place, so I said, "But I do know Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and Licorice Wands, and Cauldron Cakes, and Pumpkin-" She cut me off with a kind laugh.

"It's okay, I understand. If you have lived with muggles your whole life before you came here, you can be a bit slow to catch on." She then went on to explain about Chocolate Frogs, and I decided that the cards would be fun to collect.

We bought about twenty off the lady with the cart, who stared at us as if we were crazy, but then shrugged, smiled, said "Enjoy dears!" and left the compartment.

The first time I unwrapped my frog I got Agrippa. Summer peered over and moaned enviously. "I have always wanted Agrippa! I've been through like fifty Chocolate Frogs and no Agrippa. And no Ptolemy, either." 

I smiled and offered her the card, but she shook her head. "You keep it. It's yout Chocolate Frog." I nodded and took a big bite out of the chocolate, and boy, it sure was good! I managed to eat five more. (I got two Morganas, Circe, Merlin, and Cliodna). I saved the other four to eat at home, and stuffed the moving pictures of the famous people in wizard history in my pocket. It was so fun to watch them move around! I was so used to plain baseball cards that seeing the pictures on cards move was quite a change.

I gave Summer a wave as we departed to meet our families. My parents hurried up to me as if they had not seen me in five years. "Oh Sam!" my mom gushed, "However have you been!" She grabbed me up in a big hug, almost smothering me in her coat. I gently pushed her away, and gave Paul, who had been allowed to come along, a big hug, and away we went back home.

When we arrived home, everyone had to ask me about a hundred questions. "How are you liking Hogwarts?" came from Mom. "Have any adventures?" Dad winked at me. Paul smiled and asked, "Have you learned tricks yet?"

It seemed even the new addition to my family had questions. Rosemary Jane Wood (born in the middle of September) gurgled when she met me, and smiled, and then looked at me questionly. "Not more questions!" I said playfully, tickling her gently on the tummy.

I also had to take a look at the owl my mom was using to send my letters. I found out Paul had named him Rocky Road, and I laughed out loud. 

After supper (food had been rationed, so we didn't have as much) we sat in the front room and discussed a bunch of things. My detention (which I had served just the day before, and had simply helped the caretaker organize some papers in his office) came up, and my mom frowned at me.

"You know, Sam," she told me sternly, "I don't want any daughter of mine getting detentions. Why, I expected better of you!"

I nodded my head, feeling very embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Mum, it's just that I was sleepwalking, and the caretaker thought I may have been sneaking around, you know?"

My mom glared at me. "You know, Sam, mums always know when their daughters are lying to them. I know you don't sleepwalk. What were you really doing down in the dungeons?" She glared at me, giving me the evil eye.

"Err…well, I was just exploring. I don't get much chance during the day." I lied, hoping that she wouldn't see through this lie too. She did.

My mom threw her hands up in frustration. "Samantha June Wood! If something is bothering you, I order you to tell me! All this sneaking out at night is just not like you!"

I sunk down low into the couch, my face burning. "Nothing's the matter, Mum. Why don't you believe me?" I looked at her directly in the eyes, trying not to allow my face to get red.

She stared at me a while longer, and finally dropped the subject, instead asking me about my new friends. I then, grateful for the change of subject, told her all about them. When she looked like she would bring up the original topic, I hastily began a long story of the Quidditch game, full of demonstrations and gestures. I hoped I would distract her, and I think she got caught up in my stories, because she didn't bring up my detention again.

Finally, the topic of Horcruxes popped up. 

My mom informed me that she had once heard her great-grandpa talking about them, but he had only mentioned it only once, and had seemed to not want to talk about them again. "I think he was talking about a friend or something. The friend knew someone who had attempted to make a Horcrux, but died or went mad or something. I can't really remember. But he sure didn't like talking about them. But he never mentioned this Horlop thing you speak of."

I nodded, and then began to blush. Horlops made me think of my necklace, which was gone. I had no idea what I would tell my mom. I felt very sickish inside, and hoped she wouldn't bring up the subject.

Luckily, we went throughout the whole night with no necklace mentions, and I felt much better when I went up to my attic room and collapsed into the bed.

I looked around, and only then did I realize how much I missed this room. I missed the smell, the feel, and everything else about it. I fell asleep that night almost immediately, and didn't even dream.

It was almost dawn when I heard someone slowly crack open my bedroom door and pad across the wooden floor in their pajamas. I knew almost instantly that it was my five year-old brother, bringing Rabby along with him on the floor.

He hopped up in bed, and poked mo on the nose. "Wake up Sam, pweeze!" Paul begged me, still poking. 

I got up and scooped him up into my arms, holding him close. "And why do I get the special privilege of having one of my most favorite people in the whole wide world come in and wake me up?" I asked playfully, tickling him.

He giggled, and then his eyes went wide like Clever's. He leaned close and whispered in my ear, "Guess what? I made magic!" He backed away from me, staring at me expectantly.

My eyes boggled. "You did magic, Paul! When? How? What kind?" I was so excited that I could burst! My little brother had shown magical talent, and he would soon come to Hogwarts with me!

"Just yesterday morning, Sam! I was in the kitchen, and I spilled the milk all over the floor! And then I got scared, 'cause I knew I would get in trouble, so I wished hard that the milk would clean up before Mummy came into the room. And she came in just like a second after, she sure did, and when I looked at the milk, it was all back in the bottle! I made the milk go back!"

I hugged Paul tight to my chest. I was so pleased that he was a wizard! "Did you tell Mummy?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Not yet, but I will tomorrow!" He looked so excited and pleased that I had to laugh and say, "Congratulations on your becoming a wizard, Paul!"

He smiled at me, climbed off the bed, padded across the floor with Rabby dragging behind him, and shut my door.

I smiled up at the ceiling, so excited for my little brother.

wWw

My birthday also fell during the Christmas Holidays. We were to arrive at Hogwarts the first of January, and my birthday fell just the day before, on December thirty-first. 

Since money was harder to come by, we celebrated with a small party, and the next day I departed my family with lots of hugs and sayings of "I'll write bunches!"

I waved to them out of the window of the Hogwarts Express, until they had disappeared from view around the bend.

The journey back to Hogwarts was completely uneventful, unless you count me getting a new Chocolate Frog card (Hengist of Woodcroft), and talking to Summer about Horcruxes and Horlops, but she had no idea what either of them were.

We got off the train, and I walked up to the doors of Hogwarts, quite slowly. I wondered what Tom had gotten himself into over the break, and I figured something not very pleasant.

I tried to enjoy the last day before school began, but for some reason, I found it hard to. I kept thinking about Tom, my necklace, and that strange mirror.

When I thought of the mirror, a smile came to my face. I really wanted to see that perfect scene inside again, but I knew I would not find the room again without getting lost, and I absolutely had no idea how Tom got that door to appear. 

So I had to simply resort to reading _Hogwarts, A History_ down in the common room, making my night, for once, to be very uneventful. Or so I thought at the time I was reading all about Hogwarts.

It was about midnight when I found a good stopping place, and, putting a ribbon in the book to mark where I had left of, I got up, yawned, stretched, and began to make my way over to the staircase which would lead up to the common room.

And then I heard a low voice behind me say, "Samantha, I found your necklace."


	18. Sunflower Surfeit

Sorry the update took so long! My updates will be getting much less frequent now till the end of school, which will be in a couple of months. But I'll try to update as much as possible! And thanks everybody for reviewing! I simply love reviews!

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I turned faster than I had ever turned before, and there was Elizabeth, holding out one of my most treasured possessions. The dark of the room made her look sinister, so sinister, in fact, that I jumped when I first saw her. But I quickly recovered when I saw what she was holding out to me in her transparent hand.

I walked up to her as if I was in a trance, and took it from her ghostly hands, holding it tightly in my fist. Breathing a sigh of relief, I hugged it to my chest as if it was the most important thing ever to me, not ever wanting to let go of it again.

Elizabeth looked at me and smiled, until I finally gained control of myself and managed to ask her, "Where...where did you find it?"

A confused look came upon the specter's face. "Actually, I found it somewhere very strange indeed. It was in the Owlery."

"The Owlery?" I repeated.

She nodded. "Indeed it was. I often go up there and just look out the window or at all the owls. I love animals, see. But anyway, I was just up there earlier today, and I noticed something shining in the very corner of the room. I went over, and there, well was your necklace." She shrugged her confusion.

"Oh. But thanks so, so, so much for finding it for me! It matters so much to me! Is there anything I can do for you in payment?"

She smiled, and shook her head. "Of course not. I'm rather glad that I don't have to worry about that necklace anymore. When I was holding it, it brought back so many horrible memories."

I frowned down at my necklace, as if it was the cause of all my troubles, but I knew it was not. This was all because of Tom. Tom that I really liked, except for the fact that he was ninety-nine percent evil.

"Have you figured any more out about…our situation?" I asked her, to which she shook her head sadly.

"No, I don't understand me being in the necklace thing at all. But if you get any clues, please tell me, okay?"

I promised her I would, and she drifted through the portrait hole. I could faintly here the Fat Lady squawking, "Do you know how it feels to have a ghost drift through you, miss?!"

I rushed up to my dormitory, and put my necklace at the very bottom of my trunk, beneath heaps of clothes and other things I took along with me for Hogwarts. I made sure it was covered up well enough, and then shut the trunk with a satisfied smile. I sure did not want my necklace to have any more adventures!

wWw

Valentine's Day was fast approaching, and I knew for sure that I wanted to get Tom something really special. I considered at first chocolates, but I thought he may not like that particular sweet, and then I considered a card. I smiled when the idea popped into my head. I was an artist at heart, and I wanted to apply my skills in Tom's Valentine gift. I got to work straightaway.

wWw

Classes, I noticed once we I got back to school after Christmas break, were getting much harder. In Transfiguration, we were now working on changing paperclips into paper, and I still had not completely mastered it; my paperclip only turned a bit white and a bit more flat.

In Charms, now instead of levitating feathers, we were levitating entire feather pillows, and that was just another thing I had not quite mastered.

History of Magic was as boring as ever, and poor Binns looked close to death. Take the lesson we had about a week after Christmas break, for instance:

I was sitting there, toward the front, a quill and a bottle of ink at the ready, when old Binns came moseying in, stooped and wheezing. He stooped and wheezed and moseyed his way to the desk, where he practically collapsed.

In a weak voice, he began to read from a piece of paper about some sort of treaty involving vampires, and most of the class immediately began to catch up on some sleep. I glanced lazily around the room, and saw a fly hovering near the window. For the rest of the class, the fly was basically my center of attention. Sure, I would copy down some notes, but a girl can only take so much boring stuff.

I watched the fly buzz around the window and then land on a shiny green leaf of a potted plant, and just sat there. After a while, it finally tired of the leaf and went once again buzzing around the air in front of me, giving me at least something else to look at rather than the snoozing portraits on the walls, the stacks of organized papers on Binns's desk, and the plain, ordinary desk at which I sat.

After a while, the fly must have gotten bored of this classroom too, and zoomed out a small crack in the window. I sighed, my entertainment having deserted me, and reluctantly copied down some random date I had no idea what meant in my notebook.

There was an interesting part to this lesson, though. Not about the subject material, but about what happened after Binns finished reading.

Just before the bell rang, he shuffled the papers he held in his hands and neatly stacked them on his desk. My eyes were glazed over; I was thinking about what kind of yummy lunch there might be in the Great Hall. I was just thinking about a juicy, delicious steak seasoned to perfection with a cold, crisp glass of pumpkin juice to wipe it down when I heard the poor professor give a weak, but loud, cough at the front of the classroom.

I jerked out of my fantasies about food and looked at him in concern. He didn't look the best. I timidly raised my hand, and waited for him to call on me.

After a while, his eyes drifted over to where I sat, raising my hand high in the air.

"Yes Miss…" He trailed off; obviously he had forgotten my name.

"It's Wood, sir. If you wouldn't mind, sir, how old are you?" I asked out of curiosity and concern.

His eyed widened in surprise, and he coughed before replying, "I'm one hundred and nineteen, thank you very much."

The bell then rang, waking many students in slumber, and most of the class walked like zombies out of the classroom door.

Herbology was as horrible as ever. Rose (still insisting for us to call her by her first name) was now teaching us about some sort of sunflower that liked to hug people. The very next day after she told us about the friendly yellow giant of a flower, we went into a special greenhouse that I had not seen before, and it was full of you-know-whats.

The yellow sunflowers practically filled the room from top to bottom, making the atmosphere very crowded and very leafy, not to mention yellowy.

She introduced us to one that had its own special container up front. She smiled at all of us and said, "Welcome class to a lesson filled with fun and hugs! I have specially prepared a cheerful lesson for all of you; maybe this will cheer you up, it is ever so cold, dry, wintery, and gray outside. But just look, class! This room is full of these cheerful wonderful estival flowers!

"Now, let me introduce to you Charlie. Charlie is one of my personal favorites. I got him when he was just a seed!" She squealed excitedly, clapping her hands together.

The class watched warily as she approached the sunflower in the front and began talking to it. "Hi there little one!" She giggled, tickling one of its petals of yellow.

She continued telling the plant nonsense things until I was ready to scream. Just when I was about ready to scream and declare my Herbology teacher insane, the yellow sunflower stretched its vine out to Rose and, using its many leaves, embraced her in a hug.

Half the class burst out laughing at the silly sight, and one student was laughing so hard she had to run out of the classroom, allowing her a few minutes to gain control of her hearty chuckles.

Poor Rose (if I could call her that that is) was so oblivious she did not notice a thing, and finally ended the hug and turned to us, grinning. She interpreted the smirks of many of the students as genuine smiles, and she informed us happily, "These plants I have here are perhaps one of my favorite plants ever! Many botanists throughout the years have studied these unique sunflowers since they were first found in a forest in the United States. They grew secluded on farmers lands, only, of course, those who were learned in magic. After someone by the name of Sunny March discovered these delightful plants, they soon were introduced to the common wizarding household.

"Sunflowers, for many years after this, could be seen hugging almost in every wizard garden, until in the year nineteen o' one, when most, or almost all, of them were destroyed by an insect. A few survived, and after several years, their populations have once again flourished, although not so many keep them anymore, because now they are quite pricy to keep. I myself have one in my garden out back, and during summer I always go and chat with it every evening.

"Studies have shown that this plant right here in front of you is perhaps the most healthy plant of them all. Hugs, research says, is an important factor in a healthy lifestyle. A few botanists have even researched a group of one hundred ordinary wizards on this very subject. They split this group in half; one group of fifty would live without one of these sunflowers for a year, while the other group would live with them. And after the one year was up, it was proven that the group of witches and wizards who lived with the sunflower were both healthier, missed fewer days of work, and were definitely happier people!

"Now, what I want all of you today to do is to pick your very own sunflower and receive some hugs from it at the end of the hour. Now, keep in mind class, it is not as easy as it looks. The only reward you get from hugging is a good feeling; you don't get cold-curing potion, seeds, or any other thing that we have gotten from most of the other plants we have studied. But, what I meant earlier about it is not as easy as it looks: The sunflower must first learn to trust you and like you and respect you. After the sunflower you choose has became your friend and you it, you will receive a boatful of hugs! Sounds simply wonderful, right?!" She was smiling from ear to ear at all of us, and almost caused the class to pass into another fit of laughter.

After we managed to control the chuckles about ready to burst from our mouths, we all nodded limply, too stunned about what we were to do. None of us had ever had a hugging lesson before.

"Now everyone listen!" Rose said, looking around the room full of plants and people. "I want you all to find your sunflower of your choice."

Everyone reluctantly went up to find a sunflower, which, in my opinion, all looked alike, but Rose, contradicted my thoughts when she told us, "Consider your choice, boys and girls. Each sunflower has a distinct look and personality. Try to find one that you think will fit well with you."

I followed Tom down the aisle of sunflowers, and chose one right next to his. I looked up at all its petals and leaves, and it just looked like a plain old sunflower to me. I giggled, quickly covering my mouth.

Rose then gave the not-so-eager class instructions, and away we went. Sort of!

I stared at the sunflower I had come up to uncertainly. "Err, hello, nice to meet you," I said, feeling completely silly indeed. The sunflower simply just stood there, and didn't move an inch.

I heard Rose say over all the giggles, "Get a hug and receive ten points!" The class took her a little seriously after that. After all, each and every student wanted to win the House Cup.

"You're so pretty and…yellow," I told the sunflower, who twitched slightly. I had no idea that if my comment had insulted it, or if it found it as a complement. I continued, "How are things, I mean, being a plant? Good? I hope so," the plant responded by just sitting there. I gave up with an I-don't-really-care sigh, and turned to Tom, who was at the edge of the table just staring at the flower, not speaking or anything.

I nudged him playfully with my elbow, winking up at the sunflower.

He gave me a strange look and turned his back on both me and the sunflower.

I looked up to my sunflower and whispered to it, "Some body's in a bad mood." The sunflower stretched out its leaves, bent its long green stem, and gave me a hug, and I was awarded ten points.

wWw

Two days before Valentine's Day, I had perhaps the most exciting day ever in History of Magic, and that was really saying something. It all started quite ordinary, but there was one thing I knew was out of place when I entered the classroom: Professor Binns was not at his desk shuffling through the boring notes he was about to read to us. In fact, Professor Binns was nowhere to be seen, and it was that way till five minutes after the bell rang.

I whispered to a girl named Angie, "Where's Professor Binns?"

She looked at me and mouthed, "No idea." We both turned in unison and looked behind us at the open door. No teacher came through.

After five minutes, I was getting a bit worried, and was going to go and inform the Headmaster, when Binns walked in. Except he was a bit…dead. There was no other way to put it. I could see straight through him. The portraits I saw through his ghostliness all opened their eyes in surprise (instead of their usual, which was yawning, sleeping, and daydreaming), and their mouths practically dropped to the bottom of the portrait frame.

I heard a few gasps from the students, as Binns made his way carelessly down the aisle between the desks. He simply floated, and didn't even seem to notice the loud, chattering coming from all the portraits on the walls.

We all stared in openmouthed silence as our teacher who was now a ghost made his way to the desk, where he sat down and began shuffling through his papers, obviously finding the notes he would read aloud for this class.

Many pairs of eyes (including those of the portraits) widened even further, so it looked as if a hundred full moons had risen in Binn's classroom. Binns now began reading up on the history of elves, in the same monotone as before. He didn't mention anything about this…change.

My hand slowly crept up in the air, but then I quickly lowered it. My throat clogged up when I thought about what I was planning to say: "Err, Professor, did you know, that, err, you're a ghost?" But I had no idea how anyone would take it if I told them they had died. I couldn't just say to him, "You're a ghost."

I cleared my throat, thought of something else to say, and timidly raised my hand. After many boring sentences about some famous elf of the fifteenth century, Binns finally raised his transparent eyes, studying the girl with her hand raised. "Yes Miss White?"

I chose to not correct him regarding my last name. "Err sir," I began uncertainly, studying the ghost through my spectacles, "did you realize that you were, well, transparent?" I cringed at my pointing that out, but he simply looked down at his ghostly frame and shrugged my comment off by saying, "Imagine that."

He then returned to speaking about some boring elf, and I turned my eyes away from the teacher who was now a ghost, and began to stare out the window, idly watching large, puffy white clouds sail just over the mountains. Even if he was now a ghost, his notes were still not the least bit interesting.

wWw

That night in Gryffindor Tower I finished up Tom's Valentine gift. It really wasn't much; I hadn't had much time to work on it anyway, with all the work the teachers had been giving us.

I took the card out of its place in my suitcase and examined it. In my opinion, both my abilities as an artist and with assistance from my wand, the cart had turned out looking quite fine indeed. I had made it in the shape of a heart, of course, but the card itself looked like it was made of green and silver scales of a serpent. I had simply used coloring pencils to do this, along with a shining charm from my wand. "Happy Valentine's Day, Tom!" was sprawled across the front of the card in a mad disarray of silvery- green letters that I thought looked unique. I had drawn little bitty silvery snakes all across the card, so they looked as if a bunch of tiny snakes were slithering down the back of an even larger one.

Smiling, I flipped the card over, examining the back. This side I had simply colored pale green, and left it like that. Also on this side I had drawn a huge green snake wearing a pink cloak dotted with bright red, cheerful looking hearts. He wore a silly pink top hat to match his pink robe, and wore a red necktie to complete his funny Valentine day outfit.

The snake was flicking his tongue out, and instead of the end of his tongue being split as I knew many snakes had, this snake had a heart-shaped tongue. In a little bubble over the snake's green head I had written in careful cursive a short poem: "I'm Very Green/ My Name is Sean/Completely created by the hands of a girl called Sam Wood/Who'd like to wish her Slytherin friend a Happy Valentine's Day because she could!"

Looking back, I realized it was a fairly cheesy poem, but at the time, I thought it was quite nice. I added the finishing touch to the back of the card (using a shining charm), which significantly made the card look much better.

I turned the card over in my hands once more, smiling down at my creation. I just couldn't wait to give it to Tom in a few days. I just wondered what his reaction would be. I frowned at the thought, wondering, and put the card back in my suitcase, where I would eagerly remove it in two days.


	19. A Curious Cat

Finally, another update! Sorry about the long wait. I've really missed Sam and the gang, but I've been quite busy! But, yay! Here is the next chapter. Enjoy, and thanks for all the reviews and stuff! You guys just make me want to keep writing and writing and writing!

* * *

The next day, Valentine's Day, I got up bright and early, the weak February sun just barely peaking over the horizon. I quickly pulled out Tom's card from my trunk, examining it for about the hundredth time. I just had to see if it was perfect. Perfect enough for Tom. It was, I thought. Or at least I hoped it would be. Of course, after all I had been through with Tom, I was wondering why I was even giving him a card which I spent so much time on. I mean, he had stolen my necklace, and put Elizabeth through a lot of misery. And he sure wasn't even very friendly, at least to no one I knew, including me. But ah well!

My four dorm mates were still snoozing, so I carefully crept out of the room and down the spiral staircase into the common room, where I saw two girls having a whispered conversation. I caught the words 'chocolate,' 'love potion,' 'gift,' and 'notice.' To me, it sounded like these girls were up to something, something called making a love potion. And being my curious self, I just had to find out.

"Err, hi!" I said, walking up to the girls, who I thought were probably in either their fifth, sixth, or seventh year.

The girl with blond curls and rosy cheeks looked closely at me. "What do you want?" I saw her move something hastily behind her back, her rosy cheeks becoming even rosier.

"I was just wondering," I began innocently, "if you were considering making a love potion? Or had perhaps already made one?"

The other girl, a girl with braces and short brown hair, said "Why would you care?" Her brown eyes narrowed at me.

"Well, I was just wondering…if making a love potion was quite simple."

Now both girls had narrowed eyes. "Aren't you a bit young for boys?" the first girl asked me.

"Perhaps. But I was just wondering for future references."

The two girls rolled their eyes and moved over to the couch in front of the fireplace, the first girl carefully keeping her front to me.

I rolled my eyes back, shrugged, and headed out of the portrait hole, where I hoped to meet Tom either on his way to the Great Hall or already there. I knew he was an early bird (but strangely, he also seemed to be a night owl).

The Fat Lady was none too pleased. It appeared that I had awakened her from her "beauty sleep." I just rolled my eyes for the second time that morning and began my journey to the Great Hall.

I was extremely excited when I arrived. For there was only one person in the whole room, and the was Tom himself! Although the caretaker, who I had been avoiding at all costs since that little "steal the cool map" incident, was fiddling with something on the teacher's table. But he seemed too preoccupied to notice me, so he didn't really count.

I happily skipped my way to the end of the Slytherin table, where Tom sat, sipping daintily out of a goblet.

"Greetings Tom!" I said, smiling, standing right beside his sitting form.

He looked at me strangely. "You sound like some sort of person at a formal get-together. Greetings?"

I laughed. "Well, hi then! Say, do you know what today is?"

"Obviously. Everyone was talking about it yesterday. It's _Valentine's Day_." He said it with a sort of shudder.

"Well, then, I guess you know that I was thinking of you on this special day."

"I would hope not."

"Hmm…well, I made you somethin' special anyway."

"How do you define 'special' Samantha?"

"Like this!" Finally, the moment had come! I pulled the card out of my pocket and happily handed it to Tom.

All was quiet for the next twenty seconds. There I was, smiling away, eagerly awaiting Tom's reply. And there Tom was, sitting and staring at his special gift with an odd expression on his face. And there was the caretaker, who had just dropped a bunch of red and pink roses into a white vase to display on the table.

Finally, Tom looked up at me. "Err, thanks. It's very…interesting." His face was blank, but his eyes were a mixture of something I couldn't quite decipher. Was it…sadness? Anger? Frustration? Happiness?

He put the card next to his plate and turned his back to me, and began to nibble on the omelet on it. My smile turned into a slight frown. "Don't you like it Tom?" My voice was begging. Surely he liked it! I had spent so much time on making it just for _him_.

"It's very nice," came Tom's voice, his back still to me. For a moment I just stood there, very much hurt, because it seemed that he didn't care for it too much.

All at once I heard a loud _CRASH!_ at the head of the Great Hall. I whipped around to see the poor caretaker groan in frustration. The big, white vase of flowers I supposed was the centerpiece had fallen to the floor. Jagged pieces of vase and bright red and pink roses cluttered around the caretaker's feet.

I ran over to help him out, but he had already pulled out his wand, and I watched as the broken vase made itself a complete vase again, and all the scattered flowers arranged themselves back in the vase.

I quickly made my way back to Tom, but I heard the caretaker call out to me, "Samantha, come here," in an imperative sort of voice.

I made my way over, eyes turned down to the floor. Did he figure out that I had temporarily stolen his map? Did the portrait tell him? Was I in _deep_ trouble?

I kept walking like that until I was just a few feet away from him. Slowly, I lifted my eyes and stared him in the face. I gulped when I saw the look he gave me. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pressed tightly together, and his nose wrinkled.

"Did you or did you not steal something from me, little miss?" His fingers were tapping the long table, almost in rhythm with my heartbeat. I felt sick to my stomach.

"Well, I…well, you see, I mean, well, I did steal it at first, but I quickly returned your map, I promise! I'm sorry, it's just that, well…" I trailed off, my mouth gone dry and my heartbeat sounding in my ears. My eyes returned to the floor.

"Did you do anything with it?" He asked quite loudly.

"No, of course not!" I lied, keeping my eyes down so they wouldn't reveal the truth. I could still remember that burn on my finger.

"Humph!" He huffed, and then, much to my surprise, straightened a few flowers in the vase, and walked out of the Great Hall in a quite orderly manner.

I stared after him, unable to believe my eyes. I was sure he would punish me right then and there. I walked cautiously back to Tom, who had been eyeing the whole process with much interest. "What was that about?" he asked me. I noticed the card that laid forlornly next to his plate.

"I stole a map from him," I told Tom frankly. "But I gave it back, honest!"

Tom smirked. "You? Stole something from a teacher? I don't believe it is doable!" He said it in a sarcastic voice that made me quite irate.

"Well, don't you go smirking at me, young man! You've stolen a bunch of things! Like my necklace, for starters! And you also sort of stole Merrythought's memory! And I could list a bunch of other things that you have done that are quite disagreeable!"

"Well, I'm glad you are capable of doing that!" Tom said fiercely, got up from the table, and left, leaving his Valentine card. I so wanted to give him a punch in the stomach. Or face. Or whatever I could get to.

wWw

I left the Great Hall too, but in a fury. Who did Tom think he was?!

I made my angry way to the library, where I sat down at a table near a window, pulled a random book from a random shelf, and buried my nose into it, shutting off the unfairness of the world. I also wanted to hide from a certain caretaker coming and finding a certain girl who sort of stole a certain map!

I didn't read the words inside the book at all, I simply fumed. I was about ready to slam the book shut when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Tom.

"Tom!" I started, the book falling out of my arms onto the floor, where it began to fiercely wail. "Shut up!" I commanded, stuffing the book back on its correct shelf.

I turned my attention to Tom after I got the screaming book problem taken care of.

"What do you want?" I asked in a tone my mum would not be too proud of.

Tom looked a bit uncomfortable, which was strange; he always seemed to be confident and comfortable. "The mirror we saw..." He began, looking at me.

"Yes?" I prodded, swinging my satchel over my shoulder, getting ready to leave.

"Well, it's gone." There was a pause.

"Gone? " I repeated stupidly.

Tom nodded. "I just went there, and…it's not there. I dunno what happened to it. I mean, it was rather special to me. I guess someone rather than us knew of it."

I was quite baffled. I put my satchel back down on the table. I forgot all about my anger. "What do you think happened to it?" I asked Tom. The mirror had proven to be an amazing thing to me, and I was upset to see it gone.

"What do I think? I…haven't a clue," Tom finished despondently.

I could tell the disappearance of the mirror had rather upset him. I knew that the mirror was his only connection to his family; why, losing the mirror to him was probably like losing his family all over again.

"Maybe we can ask the librarian," I told Tom halfheartedly.

"Don't do that. She'll squeal on us. And you mustn't tell anyone else. You can't trust anyone at this place." At that last sentence, his eyes narrowed and I saw a sort of heated fire light up in his eyes, but then it was gone.

"Well, what do you propose we do, Tom?"

"I…" A bright, smart look appeared in those amazing eyes of his, but then it was gone. "I dunno."

I tried to cheer him up. "Well, Tom, maybe the mirror's gone for a reason. I mean, maybe it was dangerous or something."

"Perhaps," he said in a distracted voice that told me he hadn't really been paying any attention to what I was saying. Still looking troubled, Tom left the library without a backward glance. I stared after him for a while, and then slung my satchel over my shoulder, and exited the library, but not before accidentally tripping over a stack of books Madam Biblio had laid out, causing the books to scatter all over the floor, and the poor, distressed librarian to start yelling at me. I quickly found my way to the door.

wWw

Later that day, I looked out the common room window to a beautiful, sunny February day. Sure, it was a bit chilly, but the sun was shining, and a gentle breeze ruffled the trees. A perfect day, and I rather wanted to go out and enjoy it.

I quickly found my way outside, and was greeted with nice, Valentine's Day weather. I breathed in the smell of the Quidditch grass and the scent of the woods, which looked less threatening than usual. I had always wondered about those woods. Why was it forbidden, for instance? I had heard talk about werewolves and other dark critters, but I thought those were all stories, most likely just people's imaginations running away with them. The teachers probably did not want us students getting lost in its depths. I studied the forest for a while longer, and was about to turn away, when I saw something black move behind a tree. It was swift, skinny and tall. I knew it was either a student or teacher up to something. But what?

Now, I think I have mentioned beforehand that I am and was quite a nosy person. Well, ignoring the saying "curiosity killed the cat" I made my way over to the beginning of the growth of the trees, just where I had seen the shape move. I ducked behind some kind of thorny bush, and peered just over the top of it, hoping it would conceal me enough.

It only took a few seconds for me to blink in surprise. The dark figure was Tom, and I was just lucky enough in this situation that curiosity did _not_ kill the cat.


	20. Gold, Gold, Gold

**Sorry again that it took me so long to update! But here is this chapter! I'd also like to say that I know my story hasn't been too organized. I'm going to try to fix that starting with this chapter. This chapter is the beginning of Sam's big adventure. Just as Harry's adventure to find the stone began in the room which contained a certain three-headed dog I would not like to meet. (Altough I will have a three-headed dog in my story later on!) So, I'm going to try to jot down some notes to make this story more organized and clear. Enjoy! **

The dark figure in the woods was Tom, and I stared with eyes like an owl into the forest. Tom Riddle, a.k.a. "the boy I _sort of kind of _liked" had in his hands one strange object indeed. It looked a bit like a stone, but then again, it didn't look like a stone at all. It was a jagged, round object; it almost looked like a mini porcupine. But for some strange reason, it looked _smooth_. Despite the spines on it, the thing (that looked like it was made out of stone) appeared to have a smooth texture. Like you could put your hands on it, and the spines would not poke you at all. Weird. But perhaps the strangest thing was the fact that the stone thingy was glowing…glowing in a multitude of colors: reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, and purples. The glow almost looked like fire, enflaming the small object half concealed in Tom's left hand.

For about three minutes, Tom's eye remained on the strange stone of sorts, all the while holding it steadily in his hand. I don't even think he blinked. But I don't think I did either, staring at the strange spectacle.

After those three minutes (and not to mention, those _strange_ three minutes) passed, Tom kneeled down to the forest floor, and began to dig in the mossy earth, just beneath a large tree root sticking above the ground. Tom didn't dig too deep; it only took him a few minutes to dig the hole he wanted. Then, Tom dropped the glowing stone into the hole, and then covered it back up with dirt and moss. He marked the place with a y-shaped twig, and then got up, dusting off his hands on his cloak. He looked down at the concealed object, staring hard for a while. I heard him mutter something under his breath too low for me to hear. And then, with a slight smirk on his pale face, Tom exited the forest, passing a few yards away from the bush I was hiding behind. Luckily, he didn't look back, and I watched him enter the castle.

A slight, chilly breeze rustled the trees, reminding me that although the day was nice, it was still a bit cold. I hugged my arms around my chest, and got up, staring at the root, and at the y-shaped twig. I wondered what exactly to do.

First of all, whatever Tom was doing was strictly his business, not mine. I had no right to bother his stuff. But then again, he seemed to be up to something highly suspicious, and perhaps even _dangerous_. If that was so, I needed to tell a teacher right away. But I knew that would just get me into more trouble with Tom. And that was exactly what I needed. Yeah right. But I wanted to look at the object more carefully; I had never seen anything quite like it before. So what did I do? I started digging.

After a few minutes (the earth was hard and kept crumbling back into the hole) I had cleared away all the dirt and was staring at the bizarre glowing object. The multitude of colors reflected on the dirt, making it sparkle. Rainbow dirt. I cautiously touched the object with my index finger, and was shocked to feel that the thing was ice cold, just like an ice cube. I quickly pulled my hand back. But curiosity got the better of me, and before I knew it, my finger was back on the object, along with my four other fingers. And then my fingers grabbed the object up, and drew it to my face, where I could better examine it. I stared and stared and stared, but could not discover why the object seemed so important to Tom. I mean, it didn't seem to be magical, rather than its appearance. It didn't do tricks, or sing, or transport me to a faraway land or give me a new hairdo, no, it simply sat in my hand just like an ordinary gray rock would.

But I knew it had to be special, otherwise Tom would not have buried it so secretly. Unless he was planning to put more ghosts or whatever in it. I sure did hope not.

Finally, I was about ready to put the thing back in its hole when it gave a little shake. Like a small tremble, almost. I felt the object grow warmer, until it was exactly the opposite of freezing cold; it was burning hot!

I dropped the object in alarm, and, to my shock, the thing cracked open when it fell upon the dirt and moss of the forest floor, and a thick mist of many colors swept out, enveloping me. I rather felt like I was in a cocoon, for I seemed to not be able to move or burst free from the mist. I could not see the forest at all; I couldn't even see the object in my hands. It was as if a blindfold of mist had been put over my eyes; all I could see was mist.

And then, I began to scream, for I felt myself falling, plunging down into…something I knew not.

wWw

Next thing I knew, I was on solid ground, my breath coming out rapid and my throat sore from all the screaming. Still all I could see was mist, but the mist seemed to be evaporating, for I could see small patches of green grass through the mist after a while. Finally, the patches grew bigger, until I could make out the walkway to a house, a bed of roses, and a small dog barking near a green hose. And then, the mist was all gone, and I found myself in a completely unfamiliar neighborhood. Right in front of me was a small but nice-looking house surrounded by flowers of all sorts. The house was a peachy color, and the door was a pretty soft brown color, as was the big window with the soft green curtain. I turned around, and saw more houses, each different-looking, but all quite nice. Flowers surrounded almost everyone of them, so the whole street, which I was standing on, looked like a bouquet. The object was still in my hand, although it was wet with my sweat. And I saw no traces of a crack on it from where the mist had come from. Somehow the rock had healed itself.

I quickly stepped off the street and onto the brick walkway of the house in front of me. The small dog I had caught a glimpse of earlier came over and licked my shoe with its long, pink bull dog tongue. I giggled and reached down to scratch it behind its ears with my free hand, trying to forget about what had just happened to me. I was still sweating and shivering like a leaf caught in a strong winter wind. I stopped petting the dog when I heard a loud voice call to me.

"You! Over there with the dog!" I quickly stood up, squinting around, trying to find the source of the voice. The bull dog seemed to lose interest right after I did this, for it trotted away across the yard to stare at an orange and white cat sitting on a fence, washing its paws.

My eyes came to rest on a young pretty lady. She had been gardening in a small patch of garden in front of the peach house, and had on a pair of flowery gloves. Her long, flowing golden hair was styled into two pigtails tied with green ribbons. She had on a pair of glasses, which she wore perched low on her nose. She was quite tall, and she looked like she could participate in the Olympics; she looked strong and healthy.

I walked over to the garden, and only then did it occur to me that wherever I was, it was spring, not winter like back at the castle. I wondered where in the world I was. Somewhere very far away, it appeared.

She took off her glasses and stuck them in the pocket of her light cotton dress, which was decorated in a large amount of colorful flowers that almost made her blind in with the flowers near her house.

She smiled at me, and I smiled back, although I had no idea who this strange lady was.

"Hi! Are you the new neighbor?" She asked me in my own accent, which I found odd. I was beginning to think I was in Hawaii or one of those other foreign places I had studied in Geography that were always warm. Surely I wasn't in England….

"Well, no," I replied, staring down at the object in my hands.

Her eyes traveled down to the subject of my gaze, and she gave a loud gasp and put her hand to her heart. "Where did you get that?" She asked in a voice clouded with fear and surprise.

"Err, I found it," I said, because I sure did not want to reveal where I had came from or who I was.

"Where?" she asked in a demanding sort of voice.

"In the woods….in England."

"By a castle?"

I had a strange feeling she knew exactly what I was talking about. "Err…yeah."

"By…Hogwart's castle?" She ventured, her eyes locked on mine.

I nodded.

The lady put her gloved hand in front of her mouth, her eyes widening. Then she said, "I think you need to come with me." She headed toward the house, and I followed her, because, well, I had nothing else I _could_ do.

wWw

"Do you like tea or milk?" She queried when we came in her kitchen. The kitchen was quite a delightful place. It looked rather homey with the light, soft curtains on the big windows looking out back, where I could see a rainbow of flowers of all sorts. Colorful figurines and juicy looking fruit adorned the blue-checked table cloth, which she gestured for me to sit by. I pulled up a cushioned chair and stared at her. "Milk, please."

She nodded and went off to pour me a glass of milk and herself a glass of tea. I watched her with hawk-like eyes to make sure she didn't poison it. But she didn't, and she sat the glass in front of me. "Cookie?" she offered, showing me a tray of cookies which she had produced from the oven seconds before. I couldn't resist the warmth and the smell of the just-baked cookies, so I nodded, and quickly the sugar cookies found their way into my mouth. I washed down the crumbles with the milk.

"Hungry?" she asked, watching me gobble down the food.

"I'm always hungry," was my reply, before I gobbled down another cookie.

I had set the object on the tablecloth, and I noticed her eyes kept drifting toward it. "What's this all about?" I asked her, wiping the cookie crumbs off my face with a blue napkin.

She seemed rather reluctant to tell me about the object at first. "Tell me about yourself and how you came in possession of it for starters."

So I told her. "Well, I'm Samantha Wood, although I like just Sam. I'm in my first year at Hogwarts, and I was out at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. I, err, saw one of my friends bury the thing, and I dug it up, and after a while, some kind of misty thing surrounded me and I, well, found myself here." I finished lamely.

She nodded, as if she understood. "Well, what do you know about it?" I asked her.

She took a dainty sip of her tea before she answered. "Well, as I'm sure you've figured out by know, I went to Hogwarts too."

"Really?!" I gasped, because I actually hadn't figured it out.

She nodded again. "Yes, I got a special visitor at the orphanage."

"The orphanage?" I asked, thinking of Tom.

"Yes, my parents died when I was very young, and I was sent to my uncle's. But he hated me, so one day, he just dropped me off at the orphanage. I remember standing outside the door on that cold, rainy winter night until dawn, when some lady came and found me and put me to bed. I stayed there until the June of 1922, when the Headmaster came and told me that I was to attend a school titled Hogwarts. At first, I was skeptical, but I believed him once he asked me if I was different from the other children. I had to reply yes, because I knew I was different. I mean, none of the other children could make a leaf in the backyard hover, could they? Or no one else could tip over a vase of flowers when they were angry, or change their unappetizing pudding to something more tasty? No, of course not. Well, on September first, I boarded that train, and was quite amazed to see all the sorts of sweets and stuff and magical items on the train. To me, it was the greatest thing that had ever happened. When we got to Hogwarts, all I could do was stare at its majestic beauty in awe. And when we entered the Great Hall, I'm sure my eyes were as round as the full moon. Then it was sorting time. My name's Kit Harker, so I was one of the firsts to be sorted.

"Well, when I came up to sit on that little stool, my knees were shaking together so much! I felt as if I would faint. And then the sorting hat was plopped on my head, and I was declared a Slytherin!" At this she paused, as if the idea of becoming Slytherin was mighty appealing to her.

"A Slytherin?" I repeated dumbly. Surely a Slytherin would not live in such a nice neighborhood, have such a pretty dress on and such a neat garden and such a homey kitchen and have such a sweet, kind voice. I thought all Slytherins ended up living in dark, crumbly castles, dilapidated houses in the woods, or shacks which you could hear the wind whistle though by the sharp rocks of a harsh, dark ocean. I figured Slytherins would grow up to be vampires or werewolves by choice, or work in dark arts shops or go around killing people. I knew these thoughts were harsh, but many of my fellow Gryffindor first-years thought this, so I believed I could think this too.

Kit seemed hurt. "Not all of us Slytherins are bad, you know, Sam. Surely you know some decent ones?"

I had to say I did know a few. _Mildly_ decent at least.

She seemed happier. "Well, I knew at that time Slytherin had sort of a bad reputation, but I fought it off and went to sit next to another first year Slytherin, and we soon became good friends. Well, after the first year, I had to be hauled back to the orphanage again, and I waited in agony for my second year. Well, my second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth year seemed to fly by too fast, and then I was in my seventh and last year at that amazing place.

"Well, one day I was taking a stroll with Rebecca, the friend I mentioned earlier, near the lake. We sat down next to some rocks, and began to talk. After a while, though, I noticed a strange glow was coming from between the cracks of the rocks. Rebecca and I pushed the rocks until we could clearly see what was glowing. And it was that very object which is sitting right next to me!"

We both stared down at it nervously until I broke the silence with a noisy clearing of my throat. Kit looked startled, and then proceeded.

"Well, we were both fascinated by it, and we took it up to the common room. Later that same day I took it up to the dormitory and stuffed it in my suitcase. The Halloween party was just a few weeks away, and I was loaded with school work. So, I forgot all about the strange thing I had discovered.

"But one day, it was in late March I believe, that I was going through my suitcase looking for a pair of plain white socks. I came across it again, and well, that's when my troubles really began." She paused and took a sip of her tea, making me quite impatient. Couldn't she hurry up with her story?

Finally, after what seemed the world's longest sip of tea, she continued her story. "Well, really all my troubles did not begin until the next day. I left the thing beside my bed, and the next day, a Saturday, I woke early. I noticed it looked…different that morning. Instead of glowing all sorts of colors, it was a bright, fiery red, and burning hot to the touch. I was a bit startled, and watched it for a while until the red turned into a pale yellow. I picked it up. This time, it was only slightly warm; somehow it had cooled off.

"Being a Saturday, I didn't have much to do except chat with friends or study (which I certainly did not want to do!). But since most of my friends were sleeping in, I went down to the library to try to find a book. I was looking for information about the…object I had found.

"Well, after several hours of searching, I finally found what I was looking for. It was in an old, musty, and practically falling-apart book. I learned that the object was called Gold's Pebble. The name came from a guy named Sylvester Gold, some man that lived back in the 1500s. And the thing, which resembles a pebble, was wedged out of a great slab of stone which was said to have blocked Gold's way in the middle of an immense, dark wood. He saw the glistening of color among the gray rock, and wedged it out with his sword. When he did, the big stone burst into a million pieces, letting him go forth. Now, why he couldn't have gone around the stone, Sam, don't ask me. I sure wish he would have left the thing alone. But what is done is done." Here she paused, took another slow sip of tea, and continued.

"Well, apparently Sylvester found Gold's Pebble during the summer break of his fifth year at Hogwarts. When he returned for his sixth year, he brought the thing with him, I read. He was the sort of kid that kept to himself, so no one else knew about the object he had discovered and the amazing things it could do except himself. And the amazing things it could do? Well, first off, it can transport you to whatever of your choosing. The present, past, future, whenever, as you have discovered."

I chocked on my milk. "Err, Kit, what's the date today?"

She looked at a handmade calendar on the wall. "June eight, sweetie."

"June 8th!" I gasped. "Of what year?"

"1933."

"1933!" I shouted, now thoroughly confused. I mean, I knew the date had to be a little off, because of all the greenery outside, but…six years ago? I felt a little dizzy.

"Sam? Sam, are you alright?" I heard Kit ask. "Fine," I replied. "There's just one tiny little problem, Kit. I'm in the past! I mean, what am I doing here? I mean, can I go back to my own time?" I was now trembling like a leaf again.

"You can, but let me finish the rest of my story first," she told me calm and composed like.

_How could you be calm and composed at a time like this?_ I wanted to shout out loud, but didn't. I sat rigid in my seat and heard out the rest of what Kit had to tell me.


	21. Seven Years of Bad Luck?

To me, this chapter is rather boring. It contains a LOT of explaining, and I'm really sorry about that. And thanks, 4give4get, for pointing out the fact that Sam arrived at the house of just the right person that could tell her about Gold's Pebble. I fixed my mishap in this chapter, by telling about a strange thing that Gold's Pebble does. Thanks again! Sometimes I get caught up in the story and don't think about those sort of details! And thanks, everyone else, for reading and reviewing and putting my story on Alerts. It makes me feel...well, wonderful! Also, if this chapter seems a little fast, or tedious, or confusing, I'm sorry! As I was writing this, I had the distraction of a wonderful snack called strawberries with chocolate, which I was munching on as I wrote this. But I am at least satisfied with the way things turned out, and I hope you all enjoy! And feel free in your reviews to tell me what you don't like in this story. I don't know what I am doing wrong unless I am told. I've never been told how to write fiction, so sometimes my story or sections of it might not be the best. I also would appreciate tips on how to make my story better. A better story makes a more _enjoyable_ story! Thanks!

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"Later that day I found out for myself what Gold's Pebble could do," Kit continued. "It happened just the way you described it. I was alone in my dormitory and fiddling with it. All at once, it split open, and all the mist poured out. Now, I was quite frightened, you know, probably even more than you. I never was one on bravery when I was younger. Anyway, after the mist or whatever it was cleared, I found myself in the midst of a section of a rundown city. The buildings around me were all dark gray, and the road had potholes and was covered with bottles and other trash. A big, ivy-covered, and very unclean building was the nearest to me, and I noticed an old, gnarled man sitting on a rocker on the dilapidated porch. He liked near one hundred, or perhaps even older, I never did really find out. He was holding the newspaper on his lap, and when he saw me, he practically jumped off the rocker, and the newspaper fell to the ground. He beckoned to me, his eyes on Gold's Pebble.

"Now, I have already mentioned that I wasn't the bravest of souls. And I was shaking all over when this happened. But the man looked like he really wanted to speak to me, and he was the only person I could see on the street, and I needed someone to tell me exactly where I was. So, I went up to him. He had on a humongous pair of glasses with lens that must have been a fourth of an inch thick. I could see about a hundred wrinkles, and the skin under his eyes drooped. He had hardly any hair, just a fair bit of white stuff at the very center of his head.

"For a while we just stood there, I staring at him, and he staring at what I held in my hand. His eyes were practically popped out of his face, and they looked colossal behind his glasses. For a while longer, we stared, until finally he spoke. I remembered his words exactly. He asked, 'Why you?' And I had no idea how to reply to his unclear question. So I said, 'Can you tell me where I am, sir?' He didn't reply, but asked me to come in. He seemed like an okay man, and I was in a rather desperate circumstance, so I complied.

"He took me in a kitchen that looked just like the outside of his house. Cobwebs adorned each corner and around the table legs on the table in which we sat. He moved rather nimbly for his age, and offered me tea. I politely refused, and he sat down next to me.

"When I think back to then, and think about now, I realized that our situations were quite similar. We both landed outside a house, were scared to death, were offered in by the owners, and then offered tea in the kitchens. Anyway, the man sipped his tea, and I stared at the dirty and dusty wood on the table. I finally asked him his name. It was Rudolph J. Phillips, he told me, and I told him mine. He nodded and asked for me to put Gold's Pebble on the table. I did so, and he looked it over, touching it with the very tips of his long fingers. He nodded occasionally, and finally looked up at me in sympathy. 'What career where you planning to enter, Miss Kit?' I told him I'd like to be a teacher. But I didn't mention that I wanted to be an Ancient Runes teachers at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. How could a muggle, as I assumed he was, understand that? But he surprised me when he asked, 'At Hogwarts, my dear?' I nodded dumbly. But his eyes were sad when he said, 'You won't be teacher for long, dear, I'm sorry to say. I wouldn't even enter the job. You should just gid rid of the thing, find yourself a nice house, and settle down and enjoy the rest of your life before you perish.' I asked him what in the world did he mean, and he said, 'My dear, you are now the owner of Gold's Pebble. The world has only seven more years to look upon your lovely face.'"

Kit now shuddered, and stared at the table. "That was four years ago. I have only three more years."

"How do you mean?" I asked, thoroughly frightened.

"I mean," and here she sighed in between her sentence, "that I only have three more years to live. The old man is dead now, he died a few months after I got the information about Gold's Pebble and how we was connected to it. He had been its owner almost seven years ago, before he destroyed it. Or at least he thought he did. He used a powerful spell given to him my a powerful wizard, and he sent the object far away, away from him. But he thought he had destroyed it, not sent it away. He knew it was evil. He knew he was going to die. And he didn't want anyone else to find it. To become its victim…

"Mr. Gold, years ago, hid the object in that room which we called A Room of a Different Color. It was a room where you could get anything you want. Whenever. If you needed a good place to seek shelter from a cruel teacher, well, all you had to do was walk three times in front of a blank wall, thinking of what you wanted. And a door appeared, and then you could go in.

"I learned from Phillips that Gold saw seven years after he found the pebble. He saw seven more years before he died. The pebble had been left by him, because Mr. Gold discovered the evils of the object, and since he couldn't destroy it, he hid it in that room. A room with all sorts of places to hide junk. There were already hundreds of objects in the room. It made a good place to hide an unwanted object."

"Wait a sec," I interrupted. "You mentioned a room where you had to walk three times in front of a blank wall, and then a door appeared. I…I've been in that room. I mean, at least I think we are talking about the same room. Is it the one near the tapestry with the guy teaching those trolls or whatever to dance?"

Kit nodded. "It sure is. Why were you in there?"

"Some kind of mirror was in there. But why are you going to die?" Kit could defiantly tell I did not want to get off that subject, by the intensity of my question.

"Let me finish my story, Samantha. Well, Mr. Gold died, and around three hundred years later, the object was found by Phillips. Phillips was a very old teacher at Hogwarts, and had been seeking a place to hide a large pouch of money he had one in a game of cards. He, like you and me, was transported back in time, to meet Mr. Gold. Mr. Gold didn't know he was going to die, but he did tell, rather reluctantly and in his rather cruel manner, that he was just a year out of Hogwarts, and told him about the pebble he had once owned and all its evils. And when Mr. Gold was done explaining, he ordered Phillips out of the house, with the pebble still in his hands. And before Phillips knew what was happening, the mist was spilling out of it, and back he went to A Room of a Different Color. Now, he was quite old at the time, but tucked the object in his cloak and retired from old age that same year. He too discovered its evils. And somehow, the pebble revealed to him that he was going to die seven years after he had first went many years back in time with it. Mr. Gold never did figure that one out. But I met Phillips when I went back in time, before he died, and he told me about it. And he told me he was going to die, that he did not mean for the object to be sent back to Hogwarts. (He figured that the object would always return near to wherever it had been previously hidden). But it happened, and I found it, and I am going to be its third victim. I used the same piece of magic to dispel the pebble. Maybe, Phillips and I thought, these two magic spells would finally do it in. Obviously not. And I guess it found its way back to Hogwarts. Back to you. You were indeed the first to find it, correct?"

"Err, well, no. Not exactly. See, my sort-of-friend found it, and he buried it. And I dug it up. Maybe he went back in time too."

Kit shook her head and took another long sip of tea. "No, he didn't. He is not the owner of the pebble. If he was, I would have seen him before I saw you. The stone always takes you back to the previous owner, before they die. It did the same to you, see."

"But why? And does that mean…" I trailed off, and Kit answered me slowly.

"Phillips and I figured out why it took you back in time. We knew it could not a just a coincidence that it took us back in time to the previous owner, who could tell us all about it. Things like that just don't happen. We, or just I now, know that Gold's Pebble takes you back in time because it wants to inspire _fear_ in you. It wants to make you _afraid_ of it. It wants you to _know_ that after you have became its owner, which is when you take it back in time (although that was not the case of Mr. Gold. He became its first owner once he removed it from the stone. He never did go back in time, but still the stone inspired the fear in him), that it will kill you in seven years. Why? No one knows, and not anyone but Mr. Gold, Phillips, you, and I know that it kills you exactly seven years after you become its owner. Of course, the book I read told about it, because Phillips told about it, after he retired. But it only did good things in the presence of others. Only benign magic, not malignant, like it would in the sole presence of its owner. And no one, not even Phillips, could get the pebble to go back in time to meet Mr. Gold. Of course, when Phillips was alone, it would transport him to any time he wanted, but once he was almost killed with a horrible spell in the future, he never used the pebble for time travel again. Never. But because of what it was, the pebble was given a name, and earned its place in a few books. But because Phillips insisted it was evil, what exactly the pebble did was not mentioned in the books. No one knew if Phillips was lying or not. So I never did figure out if it was good or bad before it was too late. And out of fear, Phillips never did tell anyone that the object would kill him. The wizard that gave him the piece of magic that dispelled the pebble didn't even know what Phillips was using the magic for. Only Phillips knew what was going to happen to him. And he died. And I just bet that everyone thought he died of old age. I mean, he was near a hundred or even older than that."

"But how does it kill you?" I asked in a choked voice. I felt as if I had eaten a bowl of large stones, and some sharp thorns. My stomach felt that bad. I had a feeling where this conversation was leading to.

"You just…die. Seven years later, you just die. You just collapse. If you're asleep with the exact time comes, you die in your sleep. See, if I am up when my time comes, I'll just die. I told you, the pebble is evil. It just _kills_ you."

"So…that means…" I could barely finish my sentence. "That'll I die too?"

She nodded. "Yes, in seven years. I'm so sorry. And you're so young, too." Kit would not look at me as she said, "But from the time you're from…what year did you come from?"

"1939," I replied weakly, staring at my empty cup of milk.

"Well, when you go back to your time, I'm dead. I guess that means you'll die in the last year of your time at-"

I cut her off, because I couldn't stand to hear talk like that. "Isn't there some way it can be destroyed? If it's destroyed, I bet I'll live, and maybe even you'll live, if I destroy it right now!!" My breath was coming out in gasps, as if I had just run a grueling race. And I felt as if I was about to be sick.

Kit sighed. I don't know how to destroy it, Sam. I'm sorry. Maybe you'll figure it out before…" Kit didn't finish her sentence, but I knew what she was going to say: before I die.

But then Kit said something that changed my life. "But….maybe you can go to that wizard that helped Phillips dispel the pebble. Maybe, if you explained the situation, he might know what to do. I'm too scared to go to him, I heard he's as fierce as an upset lion and cruel as the stormy sea. Maybe he'll listen to a kid, though. He listened to Phillips well enough, but Phillips did have to give a large amount of money to him to learn the spell. I just sense something about you. You just seem to have this aura of…convincement. Of love, even. When you get back to your time, go to him. Use the pebble. Remember, when you may get hurt when you travel with the pebble, you cannot die. It ensures that you live exactly seven more years. Why, I bet if I did something that seriously put my life in danger, I would not die. The pebble _wants_ you to have seven horrible years. Seven horrible years of waiting for death. I'm not even sure if the…Avada Kedavra would kill you. I'd be afraid to find out. I just want to live a happy life before I die. If I still had the stone, it would be causing me much pain before my time comes. But you have it, and if you want to live your life in peace before you die, give it to someone else. If you are in possession of it, it is truly evil to you. It gives you horrible luck, I know. It causes death of your loved ones, it puts you into financial troubles, and it tortures you every night with horrible dreams. I'm so glad Phillips told me how to get rid of it. I'm sorry that you got it, but I just couldn't take the pain it caused me the week I had before I sent it away."

Kit let that sink into my mind, and her eyes were guilty as she stared at me. "Sorry," she muttered, fingering the tablecloth.

"It's okay, I understand. Just tell my the name of the man and where he is," I asked of her impatiently.

"His name is strange. Let me right it down for you." She headed over to the counter to get a pencil and a piece of paper.

"But wait, Kit!" I exclaimed, getting out of my chair. "Can't we go right now? Would it not be easier?"

"I'm not going with you," Kit said. "And you're only allowed one trip once you travel in time. I mean, where you land is where you land. It will not allow you to use portkeys, or Floo Powder, or any other magical means of travel. To the pebble, that's the easy way to get where you want. It does not allow that. The only way you could get to where he lives would be to travel like a muggle would, and you don't want to do that. It would be dangerous, and you might get seriously hurt. It would be so much easier for you to go back to your own time and travel to his place by Gold's Pebble then."

"But can't I take you with me when I do go back to my time?"

"Sam, I'm already dead by then. In 1939, I'm dead, so it would not work. It just wouldn't. But then…" Her eyes lit up, and she stopped in midair with her arm reaching out for the paper. "But then…we could try it. Maybe it would work. What's the worse that can happen? I mean, I can't die until my time comes. Yes, let's try. I'll go with you. Just maybe it will work." She said all this rather quickly. I realized that things were happening quite fast.

Kit went ahead and reached for the paper and wrote down the name of the wizard and where he lived. "Just in case," she told me. She gave me the paper and I looked at it before I tucked it into my robes.

_Skettle Laghatnow _

_Location: Go to the Owl's Knothole , a restaurant on Elm Street. Go up to the second story. _

_He owns the restaurant. Elm Street is near Whipsnade. Just ask someone there, and you'll find it. Good luck._

"Thanks," I told her, patting my pocket.

She nodded. "Good luck, if I don't make it back to your time."

"But you will," I told her, in the most convincing voice possible.

She smiled. "I hope so." She took a look around her kitchen, told me to wait a minute, went down a hallway and returned carrying a flowery purse that looked quite stuffed.

"Let's go," she said. She picked the pebble from the table, and placed it in my hands. She gripped my elbow, and before I could tell her how much help she had been, the mist spilled out, and I was falling once again, Kit still tightly hanging on to my arm so she would not get lost during the journey.


	22. To The Room Again

_Meet me in that room behind the tapestry at midnight. I will be alone. Trust me._

I handed this note to Tom as we passed one another in the Great Hall after supper. I didn't want to say it aloud, fearing that someone would overhear or Tom would say no. I'd rather go, and him not be there. The word 'no' would sting so much more.

I walked away, not even glancing behind me to see if he had opened the note or if he was nodding. I would know if he came or not tonight.

That day passed in a blur, I was vaguely aware that Slughorn was talking about some sort of truth potion. Veri…something. And I didn't even jump when my Charms teacher, Alondi, made a pillow explode, feathers going everywhere.

In a daze, I picked a white feather out of my hair, and then returned to staring out at the window at the trees.

I was thinking about Tom. Would he come? I hoped so. We had a lot to talk about. I mean, a lot!

wWw

Just a few minutes before midnight, I exited the common room. The Fat Lady's eyes widened, and she said, "Oh my! I don't think I have seen such a night owl as you in my entire career!"

"Thanks!" I replied, grinning from ear to ear, and proceeded down the stairs.

Luckily, I knew where I was going, so I had no difficulty finding the tapestry, although I did almost run into Peeves, who was aggravating a group of ladies in frilly dresses in a portrait.

But I got there safe and sound, and that was all that mattered. I made sure no one was watching, and all the portraits around me were snoozing, and then lifted the tapestry up, which revealed the same passage which I had been introduced to quite some time ago.

I walked slowly down it, and glanced at my watch in the light of one of the torches. Two minutes till midnight.

I took a deep breath, and stepped into the room. The curtains were up, and I could see the moon, almost orange in color, hovering just over the lake, making it sparkle with gold patterns.

But the problem was, I was the only one in the room. Maybe Tom just hasn't shown up yet, I thought to myself. Some part of me deep down really wished he would never turn up, that way I did not have to face him. But another part of me really wished to speak with him, see him, and just be with him.

I sat down on a yellow couch, and just stared out at the window. The forest looked so dark and mysterious, and the mountains surrounding the forest were so tall and majestic. It was truly an amazing view.

I shut my eyes, and leaned back on the couch. I was rather tired, especially after all the excitement of that same day. I hoped Kit wouldn't mind waiting in the forest. The couch was so comfy. And the room was so comfortably warm. And I fell asleep.

I woke up, the red light of the morning sun seeping through my eyelids. I raised my head up groggily, wondering where in the world I was. I stared confusedly at the big windows and the couch I had fallen asleep on. And then it came to me. I was in Tom's room, or whatever it was called. I must have fallen asleep in here.

I got up and stretched, and then my eyes boggled. Tom was sitting next to me, staring out the window. He didn't look at me, but said, "I came. You asked me to come, and I came."

Finally, he turned his gaze at me, and his eyes flashed with something I couldn't identify.

"Didn't you ask me to come?" He asked, his face a blank slate.

"Yes, I most certainly did. Have you been waiting for me to wake up since whenever you arrived?"

"Since twenty after twelve, yes."

His words sent shivers down my spine. I had been asleep, therefore vulnerable. He could have done anything, made me like poor Elizabeth, or even worse. I gulped.

He noticed my discomfit. "I see you don't trust me."

"You're right, Tom, I don't trust you," I replied frankly. I knew I should be concerned about Kit and myself, but some words just had to pop out of my mouth. "My necklace for one thing. You stole it. I mean, I know it is only an inanimate object, but it is like a relic of my family. It was rather important to me. And then, with Elizabeth. What was with that, Tom? Why did you do it? I knew you did it." I stared hard into his eyes, trying to see any emotion. I found none.

He told me, "Why would it matter to you? I should tell you to mind your own business." His eyes flashed in anger for a minute and I was almost sure that his hand reached for the pocket which held his wand.

My heart began to beat fast. "But, Tom! Why!?" I cried, spreading my hands out in anger. "Why do something so _gormless_?"

I watched as he withdrew his long wand from his robes. He fingered it lightly, turning it around and around. The morning sun made it glow red, which truly made it even scarier than it already was. But the user of the wand was the most frightening, of course.

I drew back, and leaped off the couch. "What are you going to do?!" I shouted, looking fearfully at the wand which he was still gazing at.

He took his gaze away from it and told me, "You know too much. About me. So I shall have to erase your memory… unfortunately." He said this without emotion. His voice was cold and dark.

I was very frightened. But I managed to tell him, "Oh, Tom! Don't do this. If you do this to me, you are doing this to yourself. Just think about it, Tom. What you do, all those horrible things you have already done, and they just make you more horrible. Please don't do this Tom. I can help you to be a better person. Please don't ruin your life hurting so many people…." I trailed off, staring sadly but sternly at him.

I saw his wand lower a fraction of an inch. "This is who I am," he said mysteriously. His wand then rose, and I saw his mouth open. He began the swish of the wand, and my brain seemed to freeze. I could not think, neither could I move. I was merely a statue in front of a dangerous Tom.

"Obliviate!" He whispered, and I saw the light zooming toward me, the statue.

wWw

I felt the spell make contact on me, I felt myself falling down onto the carpet. But I felt nothing else. I still had all my memories, all of them. I knew why I was in the room, and I still remembered about Tom.

Tom! I got up from the carpet, and stood. He was there before me, breathing hard. His dark eyes searched me, scrutinizing me.

"Tom?" I said hoarsely. I took a step toward him.

"Why?" It was just one word, but it was good enough. Somehow, he knew it hadn't worked.

"Tom….just because." I was too afraid to tell him that the spell might not have worked because he was not good enough, at least t his time. I mean, he was only eleven or twelve! But I continued, "I don't understand you at all. Why are you the way you are? Why? And why did the spell not work? Why? Well, do it again if you want to!" I was talking quite loudly, and my arms were spread out in front of.

Tom didn't move, and, to my great surprise, he dropped his wand hand and put the wand in his cloak pocket. My eyes boggled.

I was about to ask 'why?' when I realized that today there are been enough whys. Today wasn't about whys, I finally realized. It was about saving Kit.

"Tom, I came to talk to you about something else. You know…you know that pebble thing that you hid in the forest?"

"What pebble thing?" Tom replied coolly, only a hint of surprise written on his face.

"The one that I saw you hide. It's dangerous Tom. Extremely dangerous. I…we have to destroy it soon, or else somebody named Kit is going to die. And me as well. See, if you own the pebble, you die. And I'm its owner….for now."

For the first time in my life, I saw Tom look afraid beyond afraid. His face paled further, and his eyes went wide. "You mean…if you touch it, you'll die?"

"Oh, no, Tom! To be its owner, it has to transport you back in time. Then you become the owner after you have traveled back with it. See, Kit…." I trailed off, realizing I was not making much sense.

"Uh, sit down," I told him awkwardly, gesturing at the yellow couch I had fallen asleep on. Tom reluctantly sat down, his face going back to its normal self. Sometimes I really wished it would smile.

I told Tom my whole adventure, from the time I watched Tom burying Gold's Pebble to the time Kit and I got safely back on Hogwarts grounds.

"And the cool thing about it was, Tom, is that Kit is fine and dandy. She's out right now in the Forbidden Forest, just at its edge, hiding, and waiting for us. You've got to come with us. Tonight. Tonight we're gonna save her. We need you to tell us how you got it and what you did with it. We need your superior skills and knowledge about magic. And we need someone brave. Tom, you can do all that for us. So let's go now when nobody is awake and save Kit!" I exclaimed, looking down at Tom's sitting figure.

"Now?" Tom questioned, looking a bit apprehensive.

"Yes, of course now, Tom! When did you think we would be doing it? Next Wednesday afternoon?" I replied sarcastically.

Tom mumbled something incomprehensive. I leaned closer to him.

"If you don't do what I ask of you Tom, I'll blabber to the whole school about what you did to Elizabeth. Or, if you don't come, something bad might happen to you. I mean, you did indeed find the pebble, maybe somehow it affected you, or maybe somehow we will need you. Three is better than two you know. And I sure don't want to tell another person about it. As far as I know, we are the only three at Hogwarts, well, in the whole world, to know about it. So please just come with us, Tom."

"Let's just get this thing over with." Tom replied.

But before we left, I asked him why he didn't like his Valentine's Day card. "How come you didn't like it, Tom? Did you just leave it on the table in the Great Hall, or did you dispose of it?"

Tom looked at me a minute, but never answered.

wWw

When we were out on the Hogwarts grounds, the red sun was just peeping over the first branches of the trees in the woods. It made everything glow like it was on fire, bathing objects in an orange light. I kept a firm grip on Tom's wrist the whole time. It felt a bit uncomfortable touching him; he was so cold, and he seemed to want to be far away from me as possible. As if he dreaded my touch, or wanted to escape.

But luckily, just as Tom and I were exiting the secret room, I took his wand out of his pocket very carefully, and stuck it into my own. He, surprisingly, never knew.

We met Kit soon after, me introducing Tom to her. Tom acted quite politely, in both facial expressions and in words. But I could tell that he did not want to be here. But I did, and that was why we were here.

And then, we were ready. It was time to go.


	23. Skettle and the Pebble

Again, thanks for the reviews! Reviews Equal A Happy Author! I hope you enjoy this chapter. In my opinion, it is quite dark, which is why I changed the rating of my story from K+ to Teen. Enjoy!

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"Wait!" I cried, holding up my hands when we were all ready (if we were ready, that is) to go.

"Wait! Tom, don't you think we should use that Felix Felicis? You know, the potion that gives you good luck."

Tom's eyes lit up. "That might be a good idea…." he replied, trailing off and staring up at the castle. We both realized it was risky going back in, since people now would just be waking up. But thankfully, it was not a school day, so many students and teachers would not be up and about as much.

We decided to risk it, and both made our ways to our common rooms to dig the Fleix Felicis out of our hiding places. Mine was in my suitcase, at the very bottom, well hidden by lots of other junk. Who knew where Tom's was.

As I was digging around in my suitcase, I heard a faint rustle nearby. It was Summer, sitting up in her bed, staring at me wide-eyed. "What are you doing?" she asked in a suspicious manner. She had her arms crossed in front of her blue pajamas, and I was almost sure I heard the tap of her feet under the covers. She reminded me a bit of my mum.

"Uh, nothing," I lied.

Her arms crossed tighter, and I had a feeling her feet tapped harder.

"Well, actually, Summer, could you keep a secret?"

I wasn't really sure if I could trust Summer or not. I mean, the only time I had really spoken to her and got to know her was on the Hogwarts express during Christmas. But for some reason, I sort of wanted to tell her. Just in case if something happened to me….

"Uh, Summer, can you keep a secret? Like, I mean, a major secret? I mean, the kind of secret that if you would dare to tell another soul I would seriously hate you for the rest of my life?"

Summer frowned, confused. "Sure, I guess. I mean, maybe. I mean, it depends." I noticed we were big on the 'I mean's.'

"Well…" I started, not so sure about what I was going to tell her. I was about to tell one heck of a secret. It was quite a big deal. If she were to tell a teacher or another student, I might be expelled, or maybe even figuratively killed by my parents. I was certainly not in a good situation.

But I had to do this. "Summer, uh, I'm going away for a while. I mean, I'll be back in just a few minutes, but…I'm traveling to a whole different place, to maybe even a different time."

Summer looked befuddled. "What in the world are you talking about Sam?"

"You see, I have to meet somebody someplace. Right soon. Right now. So, I'm going to meet them."

"Who?" Summer's eyes were round as she realized I was telling her the truth.

I now had the Felix Felicis in my left hand.

"Some guy named Skettle something that can help a friend. She's outside right now, with a special object that will take us to Skettle."

"How did your friend get here?" Summer questioned.

"The object. It's called Gold's Pebble. I took her from the past and now she's here and now she needs help. Fast. I better go." I closed the lid of my suitcase and stood up. I realied I had not made sense at all, but at least it was _something_.

Summer still looked at me with large, ponderous eyes. "Don't tell anyone," I warned her. "I just told you this because if something happened to me, you could tell others. Just remember the name Gold Pebble. Bye, hope to see you soon, this same morning in fact. When you are time traveling, the time you left does not change. Bye," I finished, giving her a wave and a weak smile. Summer just sat there in bed, staring after me. She looked just like she had woken up from a dream.

I was soon out on the grounds, Tom and Kit waiting for me. I was surprised that Tom had not just stayed in his dorm. But maybe he wants to help us, I thought, but then didn't think. No way Tom would care about anyone but himself. I think I really got him to participate in this when I told him that Gold's Pebble could affect him too. Obviously, he did no know that at the time he found Gold's Pebble, wherever it was.

wWw

Before my mind could even grasp that Kit, Tom, and I were actually on one awesome expedition, we had arrived at our destination.

I could faintly recall Kit holding Gold's Pebble in both of her hands and saying out loud the place we were to go to, to Skettle. I could only faintly remember the fog seeping out of the pebble, engulfing us, and I could only faintly recollect Tom tightly gripping my wrist for dear life.

But then…we were okay, finding ourselves on Elm Street, the street Skettle lived on. And it certainly was not the best of places.

For starters, it looked like it had been built back in the time of the dinosaurs. The buildings were sloping, falling apart, and just plain ugly looking. They looked like dark, menacing statues standing against the dark morning sky. Bare trees adorned the structures, casting them in further gloom. They danced eerily in the cold winter breeze.

The road was potholed, and quite crooked, as if the people who had built in didn't know the definition of a straight line.

The buildings were all tall and black, mostly made out of stone. Some were surrounded with high fences, others with those creepy trees, and still others were encircled by the tallest, thickest, most ugly hedges I had ever seen in my life. These landscapers had no taste.

I saw no one on the street, no children playing, no person walking a dog, no automobiles traveling, and I detected no hint of magic, either. This clearly was a muggle neighborhood, as most were, I supposed.

But then Kit pointed, with the pebble still in her hand, at some movement near a particularly horrid building located on the same side of the street we were standing on. It was located at the corner, surrounded by two mangy trees, an old tire, and a skinny dog on a chain that was tied to the porch.

I noticed a creaking sign hanging over the poor porch. As we neared it, I saw the faded black words that read ' The Owl's Knothole.'

Just as we were about fifty feet near the place, a man stepped out onto the porch from a creaky door. His hair was black, long, and all over the place, looking as if he had slapped a pile of sticks on his head. He had a thin, bony face, and wore tattered black clothes, clothes that swept to the ground, not even revealing his shoes.

He moved sloppily, as if he was drunk or couldn't see well. He stumbled off the porch, stepped on the tail of the poor dog. The poor mutt erupted in a series of irate barks, snapping at the man's covered ankles.

The man crazily dodged away, laughing in a rather creepy way.

This was the type of person my parents would surely ask me to stay away from. But our mission was desperate, so we all walked up to him.

His eyes wobbled when he saw us, and stopped midway in the yard, near the sidewalk, which itself was barely visible due to all the weeks poking up from underneath it.

Tom and I both looked up to Kit, to see what she would do. She drew a deep, determined breath, and made her way over to the lanky man.

When the man noticed Kit approaching her, he smiled in an odd way, as if he was scared and happy at the same time.

"Uh, hi," began Kit, staring into the man's eyes. I admired her courage.

"Uh, we," she gestured back to us and pointed to herself, "were just wondering if you knew of a Skettle Laghatnow."

The man nodded, and placed his hand sloppily on Kit's shoulders, as if she was a good friend of his. I could see her cringe, but just slightly. I realized there was just the remotest possibility that she would back down. She was very determined, I could clearly see.

"Yup, I know 'em. Why you want him?" He had an evasive sort of voice I could already tell. He also had an evasive manner.

"We need his help. Can you bring him to us? Or lead him to us? Where is he anyway?"

The man grinned. "Upstairs," he replied, pointing at the building he had exited from. We all looked up to the second level, where two dark windows glared down at us. I felt intimidated already.

"No, we'll just go to him," Kit told the man. She made to leave, but the man kept a firm grip on her shoulder. "Why ya leavin' so soon?" he asked her sloppily, grinning.

By now, I was one hundred percent scared out of my wits. I had never been in this kind of situation before.

Suddenly, I heard a shout coming from one of those intimidating windows. "What are you doing George? Leave that woman alone! I should have known you aren't fit to wonder around when you are drunk. Come back in here!" He gestured wildly for George to come back inside.

George gave Kit a grin, and followed the man's orders, walking in a zigzagged line towards to the door, steering clear of the dog.

The man, once he saw George was taken care of, looked down at us. He was a middle-aged man, with a beard and a slap of black hair on the top of his head. He had an aquiline nose, a face that looked like it hadn't seen the sun in a while, and a rusty voice. "Are you looking for Skettle?" he asked.

We all nodded, Kit still looking nervous.

"Well, you found him," he informed us, slapping himself on the chest. "Skettle Laghatnow at your service," he said, bowing to us out the window, keeping a firm grip on the ledge. "Come on in," he finished, and disappeared from sight.

We all made our way up to the door, past the starved dog and up to the door. The black paint on it was peeling, and I saw a group of words painted near the top of the door. They were in English, but the letters had worn away so much that I couldn't decipher what the door had to say.

We all entered, Kit in the lead.

The scene that greeted us was even worse than the street. It was a restaurant alright, but the worst one I had ever laid eyes on. It was as dark as night, or perhaps even darker. The only source of light was about a dozen candelabras, and a single light bulb located right in the middle of the ceiling, casting an eerie glow on all that was under it.

And what was under it was eerie as well.

About fifteen minute tables, worn and wobbly, assembled around the area, some right under the light bulb, others in the dark corners.

About ten people, all rough looking, sat at these tables, drinks in hands, chatting either quietly or in uproars. We all noticed George standing near one of the tables, a bottle in hand, talking to a man that looked even shabbier than he was.

"This place is creepy," I told Kit, moving closer to her. My eyes fearfully roamed the place. I noticed many were staring. I wondered where that Skettle was; I had a feeling something bad was going to happen.

George, however, must have been daunted by Skettle, because he left Kit and us alone, and returned to talking to his friend in hushed tones.

I broke out in a cold sweat, and gripped Tom's wrist tightly. He didn't even try to pull away from my grasp. This place made me feel like a trapped animal, an animal that knew there was little escape. I had a feeling Skettle would not be as friendly as he appeared, if he made George feel intimidated by him. We all waited in the darkness for Skettle.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, he came down a set of steps in the far corner of the room, no doubt leading to the second level.

He wondered over to a bar I just noticed, and poured something from a bottle into a glass.

He approached us carefully, darting in and out of the tables. "Wine?" he offered Kit, handing the glass to her, but she declined. "No thanks, Mr. Laghatnow, I don't drink."

"Hmm. Well then, how about them two?" he said, pointing to us. We weren't sure if he was joking or not, so we both forced smiles and shook our heads.

"Fine then," he said, and sat the glass on a table nearby. "So…who are you anyway?"

"Well, I'm Kit Harker, and that's Samantha and that's Tom. I…" she couldn't seem to finish her sentence, but simply pulled the pebble out of her pocket, which she had hidden earlier.

Skettle stared down at it, and a dark shadow passed his face. He cursed, and said, "I thought we got rid of that thing."

Kit shook her head contradictorily. "No, sir, you didn't. Do you think maybe you can destroy it once and for all?" Kit asked desperately, her eyes locked to his.

He frowned, his thick eyebrows almost hiding his dark blue eyes. "Perhaps. Why don't you come upstairs to my library and explain your situation? I'll try my best, but…." Here Skettle paused. "Do you have something to give me in return?" he asked. "Money, I mean? Because I'd like to warn you Kit, Sam, and Tom, I put a lot of my effort into assisting others, and a lot of my time too. Plus, I need the money." He eyed us.

"Sure," Kit said, taking out a small wallet and showing Skettle its contents. Skettle went through the coins and nodded. "Good, good," he muttered to himself, but Kit said, "But you won't get it all unless you help us destroy this thing once and for all. Understand?"

"Yes, I understand," Skettle replied, looking a bit disappointed.

I realized then that Skettle Laghatnow was _not_ fierce as an upset lion and cruel as the stormy sea. In fact, he seemed like a decent man. Was it just because there were kids in his midst? Or we he just in a bad mood last time he was visited? Would he be horrible if it was just Kit here? Or was he trying to trick us into thinking he was a decent, mild person?

We headed up the stairs, which creaked underneath are feet. About on the second step from the top, a mouse skittered across my feet, and I shrieked from the sudden movement and practically caused Tom to almost fall down the stairs.

"Sorry," I muttered, as Tom, Skettle, and Kit all stared at me. "It was just a mouse," I replied to their confused looks.

When we reached the landing, Skettle turned right down a short hallway. We passed a door with chipped paint and a number one on it. From behind the door, I heard a loud thumping noise and a low, mournful howl, cut off by a choked cry.

"What's that?" Tom asked Skettle, with only the hint of fear in his voice.

"You don't want to know," Skettle replied. "There are some things better left unsaid in this place."

Tom kept his eyes on room one until we reached room three. "Library here," Skettle told us, taking out a key and unlocking the door. He opened the peeling door, it squeaking all the way. The sound almost wanted to make me cover my ears.

"It's my own personal library," he continued, once we were all inside. He closed the door, locked it, and turned on the light switch. "My room is room two, and I can simply walk across the hallway from my library to get to my home. If you can call it a home."

It was quite a small library, maybe the size of a large closet. There was no window at all, which made it quite dark and depressing. The old dusty books on the black bookcases further made the room look like a cave with a few electrical lights in it.

Skettle made his way over to the far corner, and pulled out a particularly moldy book. It had a thick dark green cover, and inserted into it were many bookmarks. It was not dusty, a sign that Skettle had been using it often.

Skettle went over and set sat at a small round table, putting the book in front of him. He flipped through its yellowed pages and stopped at one of the last pages. His eyes roamed the page for a while, until finally he sat his index finger near the middle of the page.

We all watched him mutter for a while, until he said, "Well Kit, Tom, and Sam, I've got to tell you that what we are about to do is perilous. I stole this book off my uncle three months ago, but he never knew, thankfully. He has such an amount of books that I think he could open a library. But then again, they're all books full of dark magic. Now, come over here."

We all made our way over to the table and took a seat on the three remaining chairs. One of my chair's legs was broken, and I wobbled like a kite in the wind. Plus, the chair was not comfy itself. It felt like I was sitting on a pile of wood. Not cool.

But I barely noticed this after a while.

Kit explained our situation, telling all about it she knew, and I filled in a few parts. Skettle listed attentively, nodding occasionally or frowning down at the book or the books around him.

"Now, you three, I'd like to say again that this is dangerous. What you have in your hand is truly a dark and malignant detriment, its purpose only to destroy. I'm sure you all realize the risk of destroying such a thing. To annihilate it, we might get hurt. Are you sure this is what you all want to do?" His eyes were concerned as he looked at each of us, trying to see in our faces our replies.

"I'm in!" Kit declared, her eye bright and flashing.

"Me too," I chimed in, because I wasn't only doing this for Kit, I was doing this for _me _too.

"I suppose," came Tom's voice.

"Good then, good then," Skettle nodded, taking a quill off the table and underlining something in the book. "Let me have it," Skettle ordered, holding out his hand to Kit, and she gave him Gold's Pebble.

He examined it for a while, and then set it down, before it began to burst out with mist. I realized that if you held it in your hands long enough, you would become its owner. Kit and I were already victims to that.

Skettle took out his wand, a thick, long thing, the color dark red. It was gnarled and old-looking, like a wand I had never seen before.

"Take out your wands," he said in a commanding tone. I reached in my pocket for mine, and Kit pulled out hers, but when Tom put his hand in his pocket to bring forth his wand, his face turned pale.

"My wand!" Tom roared, jumping out of the chair and checking his robes.

"Uh, Tom," I began, feeling his wand in my pocket, "I have your wand, but you must promise to me that you will only use it for good. Promise?" I brought forth the wand and held it tightly in my fingers. "Promise?" I repeated, staring deeply into his dark eyes.

"Promise," Tom lied, as I learned later, taking the wand greedily, eying me with hatred. I hoped he would forgive me.

"Now," Skettle said, once we were all settled down. "Now, watch my wand movement carefully, and repeat these words after me. Perhaps, with all of us performing the spell at the same time, we can destroy this thing. The spell I am reading in this book is dark alright, but it destroys the dark. Dark objects that is. You can't just use the Killing Curse to destroy this thing, nor can you use a simply spell, like the ones I'm sure you kids are soon to be taught, to destroy a certain object. This spell is strictly for the removal of dark objects. Now-"

But I interrupted him. "Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt, but do you know anything about Horlops and Horcruxes? Are we working with a Horcrux perhaps?"

Skettle's eyes bulged. "Have you knowledge of these two darks, child?"

"Only a bit of Horlops," I told him, sensing Tom fidget uncomfortably beside me. "Can't you just tell me what a Horcrux is, please?"

"It's not your business to know, but I will tell you something about them, if Kit approves, that is," Skettle replied, and turned to Kit, who nodded.

"A Horcrux is the ultimate object of evil. Worse than this thing, actually, which is not a Horcrux. To have a Horcrux, you have to be the most horrible person in the world. Even I, horrible as I am at times, am not worthy of owning a Horcrux. If you own a Horcrux, you basically have no soul, no love, no nothing. You are just a thing of darkness. Now, let's get back to business." I could tell Skettle did not want to further press this subject, and I didn't press him.

Skettle rose his wand hand, and made a sharp upward jab with it. Then, he made a complete full circle, clockwise, and returned to his starting place, making a sharp downward jab.

"That's the wand movement," Skettle informed us. "Repeat, all of you." I tried my best to make the best copy of Skettle's wand movement as possible. After a few tries from Kit and me, Skettle was satisfied.

"The words are these," Skettle began, looking serious. "_Diruo hostes hostium_!"

He had us simply repeat the words until they were an exact match of his.

"Good, good," he told us, smiling the best he could in a situation like this. "I'd like the three of you to know that something nasty might occur. We are dealing with a dark subject, and who knows what this spell will do to it, if it does do something at all to it. First thing first, you all must be prepared for disappointment. My expulsion spell did work, but not the way it was wanted to. Now I know that this object can't just be sent away, it has to be done away with. But if I am successful, I expect full payment, correct?" He turned to Kit, who shook her head in a yes.

"Go!" Skettle shouted, and we all pointed our wands, swung them, and said the words. I'm sure the scene of two kids and two adults gathered around a tiny table sitting on rickety chairs would have already looked humorous. But I'm sure if this room had a window, and someone was looking in, they just might burst out laughing when we all swung our wands, said the words, and pointed at the small pebble in the center of the table. I felt stupid for some reason doing it, and wasn't even sure what I was doing here, expect saving my life and someone else's.

When the words were completely uttered, when the wands were finished swinging, and when all was still, the pebble erupted in fire. Shrieks, cries, and moans surrounded the air, filling it, so it was almost palpable. Like the noise _was_ the air. I covered my ears with both hands, pressing them tightly, but the ghastly noises just would not go away. The fire grew, and eventually reached up to the ceiling, the blue and white flames as cold as a winter night.

All at once, the room began to shake, sway, and groan, and the table we were gathered around crashed to the floor, the pebble skidding across the floor, the fire still surrounding it, but catching nothing else on fire.

We all watched in horror as dark red liquid spilled from the pebble, under the fire and spreading to form a large round pool. Blood, it was. When it made contact with the fire, the fire diminished, just like that. It was gone. But the blood continued to pour from inside the stone, seeping its way over to us. I climbed up on top of my chair, holding on to a bookcase for support.

And then, the shrieks stopped, and the blood stopped seeping. I looked at the stone in the corner of the room, and it glowed like the night, cruelly and evilly, it even seemed. And then it was gone. Just simply gone. It had been there one minute, and then it was gone. Like a bubble would when it was time for it to pop. Just…gone.

The atmosphere was full of apprehension and terror the next few minutes. I was breathing heavily, Tom was pale and backed up into the corner, Kit was practically on her knees, and Skettle was still sitting in his chair, mouth wide open in fright or shock.

And then, I broke the silence. "It's gone. We did it."

And only then did I realize that Tom and I had forgotten to take the Felix Felicis. We did it without that lucky potion. That made it even a better victory.


	24. Imposter! Charlatan! Fake!

_Enjoy everyone!_

* * *

As we headed out of the library, bright smiles on our faces, we passed room one again. From inside, we heard the same strange howling noises, along with crashing sounds and groans. It did not sound like a happy place in there.

"Is that the room you were in?" I asked Skettle, "when you called to us out of the window? Because if the library didn't have a window, and your room is on the opposite side of the hallway, then it must be in that room that has the two windows."

"You're right, I was in that room, Sam. But it is none of your business what is in it."

But Tom seemed overly curious, and his eyes were locked on the door, just like last time, as we made our way back down the hallway. When we got to the landing, and I made sure there weren't any mice taking a nap on the stairs, we made our way down.

Many thoughts were running through my head as we made our way down the stairs. On the first two steps, I was thinking about how awesome it was that Gold's Pebble was finally destroyed, and gone from Kit's and my life forever.

On the next step, a particularly creaky one, I was thinking about Skettle, and how he seemed to be at least a decent man.

On the fourth and fifth steps, my mind wondered to Summer, and if she had spoken about my secret, and on the sixth step, images of me getting into trouble with both the school and my parents flashed through my head.

On the seventh and eighth steps, I considered how exactly I was going to get home, and on step nine, I considered the possibility that perhaps Tom and I, along with Kit, if need be could take the Felix Felicis, to assist us on our way home.

And on the tenth and final step, I thought of Tom. Nothing specific, really, but just about…him. The way he behaved, and acted, and all that other stuff. I realized, for some reason deep down inside, I liked him, very much. Why? Like I said, I was not sure. But I liked him, and that was all there was to it.

wWw

"How exactly are we going to get back?" I asked Kit, once we were outside on the porch. Kit was about to reply, when I heard a banging upstairs. I heard a muffled shout, and what sounded a bit like the words 'Nevada cadastral.'

"Did you hear that?" I asked Tom and Kit, quickly going down the steps to the porch and out into the yard just behind reach of the dog. Tom shook his head no, but Kit looked confused. "I heard something, but it wasn't very distinct. What did you think you heard Sam?"

"Nevada cadastral. It sounded like someone shouted that. But that doesn't make since. What's a Nevada anyway?"

"Some state in the United States, I think." Kit looked even more confused, and perhaps even frightened, for some reason. We all peered up at the dark windows. There was a sliding sound, and a head poked itself out between the black curtains. He was a man with short red hair, lots of freckles, bright green eyes, and big ears. His eyes looked at us through thick eyeglasses, a bit like the librarian's back at Hogwarts. He was holding a short wand in his hand, and eyed all of us.

"Who are you three?" he barked, which caused the dog below to howl.

Kit shouted above the noise, "We just spoke to Laghatnow! We were just leaving!" She turned to go, putting her arm around my shoulder, when the man behind shouted, "Well, lady, you sure didn't speak to him! _I'm_Skettle Laghatnow, and I've never laid eyes on you until now. You'd better come in!" He disappeared behind the curtain with a swish, leaving three very open-mouthed people behind.

"He's Skettle?" I choked out, playing with my wand. "I don't understand!"

You know that feeling you get when one moment everything was right, and the next, everything was wrong? Well, I had that feeling now. One moment, we had destroyed Gold's Pebble, and the next, we weren't so sure.

wWw

"Well, you sure didn't destroy it," the real Skettle snapped, slapping the imposter's book shut with a slam that made the door swing to. "The spell was faulty. Sure, it would have worked on some objects, but not that one. He didn't know what he was talking about!" Skettle's face was twisted with fury, and I realized that this Skettle fitted the description of what I had heard the best.

"Can you please explain?" Kit asked, her face twisted as well, but in desperation.

Skettle let out a growl. "That man you met, well, his name was Alalander Pink, and-" he didn't finish, because I had let out a quick muffled giggle. "Pink!" I repeated, smiling. "Who would have thought?" I looked up at Kit, but she was giving me one of those stern looks. One of those looks that said, "How can you be laughing at a time like this?!" I quickly made myself quiet. I only then realized later realized at the time I was trying to lighten the situation.

"Well, Alalander," Skettle continued, looking at me in the way Kit looked at me also, "he is-or used to be-my assistant. Some even called him The Other Skettle, but he was no where near as good as me, if I do say so myself. I only gave him the job because he was a friend of my nephew, and he needed the money.

"All went well until last year. He began to think he should be my equal. He believed he was as good as, no, better than me. So he used his sly ways to manipulate others. People began to believe (and this was just last year when it all began) that _I_was the imposter, that _I _was no wizard. And just about one month ago, Alalander completely took over. He took my name, thinking in his twisted mind that he was me. And people, who once flocked to see me, flocked to see him. They were like mice heading toward a mouse trap. They see the cheese, and there they go. Then _SNAP_! They're trapped. That's what Alalander did. You were like mice, heading toward the trap. He trapped you with his lies and false magic."

"But where did you come from?" Kit asked, staring hard at the man.

"In the room with the windows. I was looking out through the curtains when that George pointed up to me. At least he knew the real me. Just after that, Alalander came into the room, ready to trap more of those people that came to see him. You."

"You're still not making sense," Kit told Skettle. "How did you get out of that room? It looked locked when we passed it."

"It _was_locked," Skettle agreed, growling. "And I've no doubt that you heard some peculiar sounds coming from within. That was me. See, I haven't told you three that although Alalander Pink was not genuine, he still was good, but especially at transformation. He transformed me into a horrendous beast, always in pain, and kept me in that room. That way, if he ever had need of me, he could come in and use me. Or ask me something. If I didn't help him out, he would put the Cruciatus curse on me. Very painful, believe me. But I was used to pain. I was always howling when I was in that beastly form.

"Today Alalander came back into the room, looking quite smug and with a big stupid grin on his face. He told me what he had done, and turned me back to my human form, to ask me a few questions. Well, he had stolen my wand long ago and broken it, but I had someone else's wand. George's actually. He had rolled it under the small crack in the door to me, and I had hidden under a floorboard. And when I was transformed back into this form, I quickly grabbed the wand and he and I dueled. You should have seen it!" At this, Skettle let out a coarse laugh, as if the idea of two wizards fighting was like a trip to the moves. _Grab the popcorn_, I could almost hear him saying. He continued.

"Well, I killed him of course. And I'm not even afraid to admit it. Ha ha!" he burst out into dark laughter, and I had thought that that one month in room one did him some harm.

"Did you kill him with the Killing Curse?" asked Tom for the first time. I looked over at him with narrowing eyes, but he paid me no heed. He simply stared up at Skettle, almost eagerly. I felt a bit sick, and looked over at the book shelves instead, seeing their titles, but not reading their words.

"Of course," Skettle answered. "It's the most effective, even it is illegal. It sure was a sight when he fell to the ground! I felt ecstatic!" He patted Tom good-naturedly on the back, and now I realized he was mad. I didn't feel so ecstatic. In fact, I felt like a just-stomped bug under a shoe. I was treaded on. Smashed. Squished….

"But, your problem is still not solved," said Skettle, returning to his solemn look. "I know you want to destroy this thing for once and for all, but I doubt I can do it. All I can seem to do is send it away. Back to somewhere where someone can become its victim. That's no good. Let's see…." Skettle flipped through the pages of the book, muttering to himself. I occasionally heard the word 'liar.' I assumed he was talking about, uh, Pink.

"This is tricky. I haven't a clue how that spell Alalander used effected the pebble. It may be all the way over in Ireland now. But perhaps I can bring it back…." Skettle's eyes narrowed in concentration, as if he was studying for a difficult exam.

For a few seconds that felt like hours all was quiet as he muttered under his breath and held out George's, I presumed, wand. Then, to my amazement, the object we had worked so hard to destroy, was in the middle of the table without the slightest noise or movement. It appeared just like it disappeared. A bubble in reverse.

I stared at the pebble, thinking it might do something. I'm sure somehow if it was angry, if that possible, it might do something not-so-cool. And we certainly did not need that at the moment.

As I examined the pebble with my eyes, I noticed it looked a bit burnt and dinted. Obviously, the spell Pink had used at least had some negative effect on it.

But the pebble was still as, well, an ordinary pebble, and my fear began to dampen.

In a moment of courage, I watched Skettle reach out and grab the pebble, and held it close to his face. He quickly set it down, nodding. "Yes, I thought so. It was sent back to Hogwarts once again. I used a simple summoning charm, and here it is. Now, what should be done?" His face fell in a deep frown.

"Destroy it?" I suggested, stupidly. Of _course_ we had to destroy it.

"I _do_know of one spell," Skettle told us. "But it _is _extremely dangerous. Alalander may have made this pebble even harder to destroy. And, not to mention, I just heard about it yesterday. I went to a good friend and he mentioned it. Hope nothing goes wrong."

And then, without warning, Skettle shot out his wand, shouted something, and practically jumped out of his chair.

A thin beam of red light hit the pebble, and then, just like that, it was dust. Just dust laying on the table. I heard a ghastly wail, like none I had ever heard before, and then, the dust was gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.

It would no longer bother Kit, or me, or Tom, or any other innocent person. It would no longer cause anyone any pain, or bad luck, or death. Everyone was free of it. Free. Free. Free.

"Gone. Free." I said, staring at the place where the pebble had been. I looked up at Skettle. "You're good," was what I said, a whale-sized smile spreading across my face. And Skettle chuckled. "That thing won't bother you any more," he said. And this time, I knew for sure.

It had all happened so fast. Almost unbelievable. I was almost sure that destroying an object like that would take a lot more effort and time. But it didn't.

All these things were running through my head as we went down the stairs, exited the horrible place, and went out into the yard. Skettle gave us a wave (very friendly of him) and then made his way back into his restaurant.

I said, "That was _awesome_!"

Kit said, "He did it _so _fast!"

Tom said, "He _killed _somebody."

I gave Tom a glare for his morbid thoughts, but turned to Kit. "Is he going to be thrown into prison for that? I mean, I'm not going to tell any one about what he did, because of what he did for us. But what is someone else finds out? Will he go to prison? _Is _there a wizard prison?"

Kit nodded. "Indeed, there is a wizard prison. Azkaban it is called. He might, or he might not. But let's just leave here. This place is creepy."

Indeed, it was. Storm clouds smothered us, covering us up, as if it was a blanket. Covering us up in a not-so-great place. "Let's get going," I replied, shivering, but then halted. "Uh, Kit, _how_ exactly are we going to get home?"

"Leave that to me," she told us, and headed down the street. I noticed she was smiling.

wWw

"Ah, Kit! You have finally decided to visit your aunt! Ah! How long I have waited to see you! Ah!" The lady was old, wrinkled, and smelled like moth balls, but she seemed very friendly, and was dressed in a pretty blue dress that fell to her ankles. It looked warm and soft, to keep away the chill of the surrounding area.

We had traveled a mile or so on foot, weaving down random roads, stopping and asking for directions twice.

"Could you please tell me where Apple Street is?" Kit asked the first time, to an old man snuggled up in a blanket sitting on a porch. We were this time in a nice neighborhood, full of friendly people, a nice road, and clean houses.

"Turn a left at the end of this road, and keep going until you reach the end of the street. Go right, and travel to the end of that street. Go right again, and travel down the road until you get to a crossroad. Go left on it. At the end of that road, there is a small road. Turn left on it. You'll see the sign for Apple Street. Good day to you miss."

"Good day sir," Kit replied, flashing a friendly smile.

We went left, and then right, and then right again. But when we got to the crossroad, we all insisted it was a different direction.

"I think he said go to the end of the road," was Kit's opinion.

"No, he said go right," I said, pointing right.

"It was left," Tom said, in a very confident voice_._

Well, Kit didn't want to get lost, so she asked a young lady walking a Dalmatian for the directions to Apple Street. Tom looked smug when he learned that it was indeed in the direction left we had to turn.

So, we finally got there, and here was this lady welcoming us into her small but pleasant and well-kept home.

She had us sit down for tea, and I sipped on mine politely, even though it was too bitter. Tom didn't touch his.

"May we use your fireplace, Maria?" Kit asked the old lady, putting her hand on the other's wrinkly one.

"Why of course. But you must stay and talk. Why, I've had the most interesting year. Just yesterday a man selling-"

Kit cut her off, politely. "We really must be going. We have urgent business we must attend to. Please excuse us. I'll try to visit you later, okay Maria?"

Maria agreed, looking downcast. She turned to Tom and me. "Who are these two?" she inquired.

"My…friend's kids," Kit lied.

"But we really must be going," she repeated. "But I'll write or speak to you soon Maria."

Maria nodded, and led the way to the fireplace. On a shelf, she took a clay pot, decorated with the carvings of flowers. "Here you are," she said, handing it to Kit. Kit took off the lid, set it on the shelf, and took out what looked like powder. She gave us each a handful, without explanation. For just a minute I thought our guardian had gone mad.

"Uh, what is this?" I asked, staring down at my handful of dust.

Tom snorted, but Kit said with a kind smile, "What we'll do is step into the fireplace. My aunt, Maria here, is a witch like me and you. And this is a magic fireplace. What you do then is say the name of your destination, very clearly mind, and then throw the powder down. Watch me."

Kit gave Maria a wave, a promise to visit and write, and stepped into the fireplace. She held the powder up in the air, as if she was holding a torch. "Dervish and Banges, Hogsmeade!" And the powder was thrown down, and Kit disappeared in a sudden appearance of flames.

"I hope she knows what she's doing," I told Tom, as he stepped into the fireplace and soon after vanished from sight.

"Bye," I told Maria, smiling. I nervously stepped into the fireplace, my hand shaking. Some powder fell between my fingers onto the ground. "Dervish and Banges, Hogsmeade!" I shouted, clearly and loudly.

And then, I was traveling in a million circles, like a merry-go-round set on super-extra-maximum power. I tucked my elbows to my sides, images of openings to other fireplaces flashing by, so fast that I could barely get a glimpse of them. And then, it all ended, and I stumbled down out of the fireplace and onto a red shaggy carpet.

Tom and Kit were there waiting for me, looking down at my sprawled form.

Kit helped me up, and I said, "Wow! That was one heck of a carnival ride! Wasn't it Tom?" I turned to him, but he looked a bit pale and disoriented.

"Are you alright, Tom?" I asked, looking concerned. He didn't look so well.

"Fine," he muttered, in a voice I recognized. The voice my dad had after he came off the Spin-O-Wheel, a ride at a carnival I had ridden back when I was eight. That "I'm not so good with going around in circles" look.

Who would have thought that Tom got motion sick!? I almost laughed aloud at the thought.

I looked around me, and several strange, magical items on shelves greeted me. I saw some sort of globe that talked by itself ("Would you like to locate Madagascar, Miss?"), some sort of box that jumped up and down, a mirror that showed a ravenous lion, and a book that read itself. Whenever it was finished reading one page, it would just flip over to another. That was the kind of book I needed. No work needed!

"So, this is Dervish and Banges, huh Kit? Would you mind telling me where we are? And why?"

"This is a shop at Hogsmeade. You do know Hogsmeade, right?"

I nodded. "Yes, I am so much looking forward to coming to it in my third year!"

Kit nodded. "Well, I know the owner of this shop, and he doesn't open until later in the day. So, the place is empty. And, if he ever did catch me here, I could get him to understand.

"Well, it's time for me to leave you two. Samantha." She turned to me as she said my name, and wrapped me in a warm hug. "Thank you so much, Sam," she told me, releasing me and staring at me with big eyes. "You are truly my hero, Sam. Without you, I don't know where I'd be. In the ground, I suppose. But know it is time for me to make my way back to my own time. I know a friend that owns a Time Turner. I'll go to him. But don't worry about me. You have saved my life and your own and perhaps even Tom's. You deserve a medal."

"_You're_ the person who deserves a medal, Kit. Really. Thanks so much. I won't forget you. Ever." My eyes reflected hers; they were big, sad, and round. Like a blue moon. Literally.

We gave each other another hug, and Kit turned to Tom. Her back was to me as she enveloped him in a bear hug, and I could see Tom's face, which reflected something I couldn't recognize. Was it sadness, disgust, or…happiness? I wasn't sure. Tom could be so subtle sometimes.

Then Kit turned to me, gave me a smile, and grabbed a handful of dust in a jar over the fireplace. I watched as she called out a name of a location unknown to me, and then was gone in a sudden burst of flames. I was still waving even when I could only see the bricks in the fireplace. Kit had truly been a true friend.

I turned to Tom. "Let's go back." He agreed on those three words.

We exited the building and I looked at the red winter sun. It was identical to the sun I had left. No time had passed, I knew.

I felt the beautiful warmth the sun provided, even if it was a winter sun. The bright red light fell onto my cheek and made me feel as warm as a sugar cookie just out of the oven. That sweet, awesome, wonderful feeling. I was glad to know that I now had more than seven years. And Kit too. And perhaps even Tom. I never did ask him what he did to the pebble or where he found it. And I didn't feel reason to. The pebble was gone forever.

It was a happy day.


	25. The UnWelcome Welcoming

Hi, faithful readers! I'm sorry about the long wait, but (finally) here is the next chapter in Sam's story! Enjoy!!

* * *

As we made our way back to Hogwarts I tried to make small talk with Tom.

"Now that was an adventure, wasn't it, Tom? It almost doesn't seem real!"

Tom nodded absentmindedly. He was looking around us and up at the glorious welcoming-home morning sky

"I bet if my parents knew what we have done, they'd disown me. Well…maybe not. But I'd bet they'd come close. I can just picture my mum's face. Shriveled up like raison and squawking like a parrot. At least that's how my brother describes her when she's irate.

"I remember one time, Tom, when there was this squirrel in the back yard, and I coaxed it into the house with a trail of peanuts. And we spent practically the whole day trying to chase it out. It was chaos! But the stupid squirrel couldn't seem to get the idea in its mind that we wanted it out. It just kept hiding under the furniture and making that annoying squirrel chatter. One of our neighbors actually called the police 'cause she thought that there was a mad burglar in our house. Utter chaos! But my dad managed to scoop the squirrel up in a colossal net and then he threw it back outside. You should have seen it run, Tom! The poor thing! It really was spooked!"

My story didn't seem to get any reaction out of Tom. I guess I'd have to try a different tactic.

"Would you like to hear a riddle Tom? You know, like your last name?"

"Not particularly," was Tom's pathetic reply. I ignored it, of course.

"Well, Tom. Here is the riddle: What can you put in a bucket that will make the bucket lighter? It can be clearly seen by the eyes, and is weightless. What is it Tom?"

"That's a stupid riddle. You'd put a hole in the bucket of course."

"You've heard it before," I stated, clearly shocked.

"No. It was just stupidly simple, Samantha. How long did it take you to solve that one? Five years?"

I gave Tom an evil glare, but said nothing. I had to actually ask my dad for the answer after several hours of puzzling. Tom either had to be lying, or extremely dexterous. I think the latter.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head, like popcorn popping. It had been just the seed of an idea a while, but now it was fully an idea.

"Hey, Tom. Why don't you give me the address to the orphanage? I can come and visit you sometime. It would give you some company, you know."

"No," came Tom's swift reply.

"Fine then," I replied smartly, "I'll find the address to it myself."

Tom snorted. "You don't even know the name of the place."

"But I have my resources," I replied slyly, even though I had not resources at all, at least not to my awareness.

Tom shook his head at me, rolling his eyes, his neat black hair bouncing. I turned to a whole different conversation.

"You know, Tom, you're endearingly attractive. Very cute. I bet girls will be flocking after you like chickens after their mother when you're about sixteen. I bet you'll get your face on the front of a popular magazine. Or maybe you'll be a star in a hit movie."

Tom groaned in exasperation. "Will you please just shut up Samantha?"

"No, I absolutely will not shut up!" I stamped my foot to dramatize the situation.

"I repeat myself again: you are cute. Perhaps when we are allowed to go to Hogsmeade you'll take me out for tea or something."

"I wouldn't do that, stupid."

"Oh. Well, maybe I'll take you. You do need some friends Tom. And a girlfriend. Maybe I can be that for you. I'm your friend right now, aren't I?"

"Fiend, maybe."

"Define 'fiend' Tom."

"A troublemaker. Annoying. Mischievous."

"Mmm. Interesting. But maybe you're the fiend, Tom. How come you're so evil? I don't want a fiendish boyfriend."

"I'm not your boyfriend!" Tom said fiercely, looking like an irritated monkey. Ready to throw any nearby bananas. Lucky for me, there wasn't any.

"Do you not like me?" I asked Tom.

Tom gave this unsatisfactory reply: "You're you."

"And that means…." I trailed off, waiting for Tom to complete my sentence.

"You're generally acceptable."

What a weird reply.

"Would you even consider me as being your girlfriend? Maybe just an idea of it in the very back part of your mind?"

"No."

"Is there some other girl you like, Tom?"

"No." I could tell he wasn't lying.

Then, to my surprise, he said suddenly, "But I like you better than any other student in Hogwarts. Everyone else is dimwits and all the teachers are even worse."

For some reason, I felt greatly complimented. "So you're saying I'm not a dimwit?"

"That's kind of what I said."

I smiled. "That's good to know," I said, even though a felt a tiny bit sorry for the "dimwits." But just a tiny, tiny bit.

"Hey, Tom. I know this is a personal question, but how'd your mum die? Do you know anything about her? How 'bout you dad? Have you figured anything else out about him?"

"I was told my mum died right after she had me. She had just enough time to name me my stupid name. Tom Marvalo Riddle. What a joke."

"Marvalo? That's a strange name. Were you named after your dad?"

"My dad's name was Tom Riddle. My mum's dad is Marvalo."

"I wonder why your dad left? Surely he would have stayed by your mum's side."

"I don't know," Tom said forlornly. "I used to think that people with magical abilities didn't die. So I thought that my dad was the wizard. But now I know better. I was so juvenile then. Maybe it was my mum who was the witch….but I bet she could have used her magical abilities to prevent her death."

The word 'death' made my mind stir. I asked Tom, "What's with you and death anyway Tom? You seemed to become pale as a ghost when I mentioned it to you just a few hours ago."

Tom stared at the ground, so I continued. "Most people are scared to die, Tom, I know. They just don't want to let go of life. But I mean, you seem so courageous. You practically went berserk when I mentioned it. How come?"

"Aren't you scared of dying?" asked Tom, staring at me full in the face for the first time.

"Well yeah. Sort of. I don't think about it much actually. Enjoy your life is what I say. Everyone dies sometime. It's not like anyone's invincible. Some people probably think they are, but really, no one is. But for me, dying is just something I've accepted. Sure, I was afraid of that pebble killing me after those seven years. Yes, I'd like to live to be fairly old. Have grandchildren at least. But yes, I'll die sometime. And it's not like I'll be in eternal blackness. There's life after death, Tom. So what are you so scared of?"

Tom stared down at the path and didn't answer. We were almost to Hogwarts, I could see, so I dropped the subject. Hopefully I could approach it some other time when we were alone. If I ever got that chance opportunity, that is.

When we reached the doors, they were surprisingly unlocked. "Someone hasn't been doing their job," I joked to Tom, but he didn't laugh or even break in a smile. I guess I wasn't the greatest comedian, or either Tom had no sense of humor.

After leaving Tom, I made my way back up to Gryffindor Tower, were the Fat Lady seemed to be waiting for me.

"I've been waiting for you," she told me. "Since midnight. Now here you are, looking wide awake in this early morning sunlight. Where have you been?" Her voice was very demanding, and I had the feeling that I had made the Fat Lady quite angry. That's never good. I think people in portraits can have an awesome temper.

"Around," I replied. That really wasn't a lie, was it? I mean, I had been in England throughout our whole journey.

"Around," the Fat Lady said flatly. Then she said, "Young lady, do you know what a baryonyx is?"

I had no idea. I told her so.

"Well," the Fat Lady sniffed loudly, "I do hope one comes after you. Maybe I can order me some next time you try to come out so late at night. A baryonyx would put you in your place."

I could tell she was insulting me…in a shrewd way. Ugh.

"Cat claws," I said, hoping she would allow me entry with the password.

"Too bad," the Fat Lady smirked. "I changed it this morning. And this time I really did. You'll just have to wait out here for thirty minutes or so. Until someone comes out."

"Why can't you just let me?" I asked her. "You know who I am. What's the holdup?"

"Absolutely nothing, unless you count the fact that you have caused me many sleepless nights. Now I'm going to waste your morning."

"I wish a baryonyx would come after you," I muttered rudely. I guess I was tired, frustrated, and just wanted to get back to bed. Usually I didn't have such an unrefined disposition.

"Well, it won't," The Fat Lady said. "I was joking with you earlier. They're dinosaurs, and they're extinct. And the password is 'lukewarm.'"

"I'm sorry," I told the Fat Lady sincerely. "I'm just tired, honest. I usually don't speak like that. Lukewarm."

The Fat Lady stared at me, and then let me go through the passage. "Thanks," I told her politely. I didn't want to get on the Fat Lady's nerves any longer. I hoped that she wouldn't tell anyone about my late night outs. That would be disaster. Major disaster.

I made way up to the girls' dorms, and quietly opened the door.

The sun shining through the window was about the same as it had been before. Just over a scraggly tree in the field.

All the other girls, except Summer, were asleep. Summer was sitting up in bed, fully clothed and looking at a book.

"You didn't tell anyone, did you Summer?" was the first sentence out of my mouth.

"No." She slammed the book shut. "But please tell me what you've been doing. You were so inarticulate earlier."

"Could you just please forget about it?" I asked Summer. "Please Summer?"

He voice was hard as she said, "Sure. But I won't forget. I won't tell anyone, but I won't forget. Something big was going on, I know it. But what?"

I didn't answer her, but pulled back my covers and climbed into bed. "Goodnight," I told her, hoping that that one word would kill the conversation. Nope.

"No, not goodnight. Good morning. The sun's up, Sam. What are you thinking? Are you mad? You'd better wake up and get dressed and shower, or you'll miss breakfast, which will be in…one hour."

I was too tired to argue, so I just rolled over in bed and buried my head underneath my pillows.

I heard Summer's muffled voice say, "Fine. Be that way. I guess I had the wrong impression about you earlier. Now I know you're just gormless and arrogant. Goodnight!" The words were hard and cold, and I wondered what I had done to make Summer so angry. Then I realized that it really was all my fault. I had left her dubious and frightened earlier, and I came back asking her to forget all about what I had said. And then I rudely dismissed her when she wanted to talk.

I got out of my cocoon to tell her I was sorry, that I really didn't mean it, but she was gone. I just buried myself once again under the covers, but my conscience would not let me sleep. I was like that until about forty minutes later, when Jo shook me and asked me if I was ill.

"No," I told her from under the covers, even though I wasn't so sure. I knew that I wasn't feeling so great.

But I got up, dressed, and made my way down to breakfast with the Green sisters. I moseyed along the whole while, like an old zebra might after a younger herd. But I wasn't old. I was an outcast. Maybe like some zebras were. At least I felt like an outcast. _Outcast_. The word hurt.


	26. Who Ya Gonna Expel? Peeves!

Enjoy!

* * *

Later that day, I apologized to Summer. I'm not sure if she forgave me or not, but it looked like she did.

But aside from that, the rest of February went along fairly well. I excelled in most of my classes, with the exception of Charms, which for some reason- be it the hiccup-plagued teacher or just myself-who knows. I still did okay, but not the best. I mean, really, who could lift two pencils in the air at once just by using your wand, or move a book off a shelf? And a heavy book at that.

Anyway, March was there before I knew it, bringing in cold, harsh winds, and hard rain. Most days I stayed inside, practicing magic in the common room, talking to friends, or writing letters to mum and dad. Exciting, huh?

April came with rain, rain, homework, rain, and more homework. I spent a great deal of my time in the Gryffindor common room, paging through old textbooks, studying up on all sorts of magical things, and gazing out the window, watching the rain splatter against it.

But finally, in late May, something exciting happened. And yes, it involved Tom. Wouldn't you know it?

I woke up that late May morning with a boring, rainy Saturday peering through my window. A sharp wind rattled the window, and I knew today was an inside day for sure.

I had already finished my schoolwork, which included a sixteen-inch parchment regarding three different potions for Slughorn, and practicing some transformations for Dumbledore. ("Transform a feather into a quill, please and thank you very much. Due by Monday, everyone.")

So, I had perfected my transforming abilities, and filled a sixteen-inch piece of parchment with information regarding three potions I would think I would never need in my life or need to know about.

All finished, I decided that today was a good day to talk to Tom. The rain was falling down, the wind whistling, and the air cold. Yes, the _most_ perfect atmosphere to speak with Tom!

I found him making his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, and I quickly caught up with him.

"Hey!" I said, my voice full of camaraderie and warm feelings.

"Hello," he said, his voice _neither _full of camaraderie _nor_ warm feelings.

"Well, Tom, I was wondering if perhaps you'd like to meet me again." I dropped my voice to a whisper as I continued. "Again in that room behind the tapestry." I wanted to talk to Tom again, before the school year ended. Before he drew too far away from me…. Before he ceased to speak with me….

I was surprised, and I knew my face showed it, when Tom nodded yes.

"Really?" I gapped at him, my eyes boggling like Clever's when he spied his box of "Toady Treats."

Tom nodded, and trotted off toward the Slytherin table, where, of course, he sat alone.

Before I knew it, I had gobbled up my breakfast of sausage, eggs, and apple cider, and was making my way to Potions.

I sat next to Tom as usual, copied down the usual notes on the board, and made the usual potion for Slughorn. Tom had the best potion in the class. As usual.

Afterwards, my classes sped by, except for History of Magic, which seemed to last for a millennium. Only occasionally did I snap out of reveries to copy down a few words of what the boring professor was telling us (something about Starsaap the Sleepy).

But, of course, the most exciting part of that day came after a supper of fried chicken, baked beans, and some sort of spiced tea. It came after I did a bit more studying, a bit more homework, and a bit more "Clever, bad boy!"s later.

It came after I left the dormitory, evoking a squawk from the Fat Lady, and a near run-in with Peeves, who was holding an ominous black basket of something that was squirming slightly.

It came after I dodged the poltergeist, the caretaker, Dippet (who appeared to be holding a cup of hot chocolate that was steaming copiously) and a prefect that looked like a vampire.

And it even came after I opened a door, thinking it would open to a shortcut, but held what actually appeared to be a gargantuan stuffed dragon with iridescent scales.

It only actually occurred after I watched the rain patter against the windows of the secret room, waiting for Tom Riddle. It only actually occurred when Tom and I left the room.

"Tom, hello!" I waved him over to the couch, where he sat down on the opposite side of me, as if he was afraid of some twelve-year-old girl with a bunch of moldy toad biscuits in her robe pocket.

"Hello," came his dull reply, as he looked past me out into the rainstorm.

I tried to establish conversation.

"Well, Tom, guess what I'm going to do over the summer? C'mon, guess!" I smiled eagerly at him.

Tom sighed heavily. "Something quite exciting by the sound of your voice."

"Right-o! Well, I'm going to invite Loch Ness over for tea! And we're going to have chocolate cake, and then board a magic carpet and sail to the moon, where we'll meet three green aliens painting a mural of a moose! How's that sound, Tom?"

No response. No laugh. No nothing. Ugh. I really wanted to get the guy to laugh, but I obviously wasn't exceeding. I tried another tactic.

I plucked a feather from the pillow I was leaning on and leaned over to gently tickle Tom's nose. But he just scooted over to the next couch. What a sourpuss!

I remembered the first time I had heard a genuine laugh from Tom, but that seemed year ago, back on the train when Clever made us both explode into giggles. (Or, for Tom, a mere chuckle. But it _was_ a laugh)!

But Clever was lying beside my bed in his cage, most likely dreaming toady dreams. And here I was, hoping I could entertain Tom. Obviously, I wasn't as funny as I thought I could be.

I heaved a sigh similar to Tom's, and stood up and stretched, making my way over the other couch, where I plopped down a few feet away from Tom.

"I just don't get it, Tom," I told him, my eyes saddened. "Why? We've been through so much this year (and hardly even got into trouble, lucky us!) and I know I should be so afraid of you. But I'm not. Not at all really. You performed all that complicated magic-"

Here, Tom cut me off. "Those were merely fluke. I think it had to do something with me beginning. I was fresh, and excited. But now…." Here, he trailed off, leaving me confused.

"What do you mean by fluke? I don't understand."

"I mean, that I can't do that complicated magic stuff anymore! "

I didn't even bother to ask him how he knew this, as I figured he at reattempted the memory charm and ghost in an object thing. But I could tell by his eyes that he had not succeeded at these. And he looked angry.

"Err, well, Tom, like you said before, maybe it was a fluke. I remember reading about this wizard in _Wizards, Witches, and Wands You Never Knew About _by Info Mation_. _Well, this one man started off as a great wizard, doing all sorts of amazing bits of magic, but one morning he woke up and tried to magic one of his living chickens onto his breakfast plate. Instead of getting the chicken and biscuits he was hoping for, he got a whole chicken on his plate. The live, squawking kind, not the grilled, eatable kind. And always after that, his magic was greatly limited. And no one ever figured out why."

"It's not like that," Tom snarled, and stalked over to glare out the window. I could hear him muttering to himself, although I couldn't catch a single word. In a way, I was glad.

(Later on in the years, I never did figure out what happened to Tom during that small period of time. Because, when we returned for our second year, Tom was as magical as ever. Tom, on this late May night, still was as brilliant as ever, but his powers were limited. The only explanation I could come up with was that Tom lost his powers because memory charms, Horlops, and other pieces of similar dark magic didn't matter to him. At that one point, he was neutral. Maybe it had had to do with the trip we took concerning Gold's Pebble, or maybe it was something else…something more).

And then Tom surprised me by asking a strange question.

"Err, earlier this year, Samantha, you told me you read in a book that Salazar Slytherin built a sort of chamber. What was that about?"

Wondering what was up, I answered reluctantly. "Well, it was rumored that the snakey guy built this sort of hidden chamber in the school, which contained some sort of monster that only his heir could control."

Tom's brow furrowed, and as he did this I remember the intricate snake carving on the tap that wouldn't work in the girl's bathroom. I wondered….

But Tom didn't further press the issue, and instead turned to again look out into the soggy evening sky. I looked with him, but my mind was far away from two hydrogen atoms and an oxygen atom.

I finally decided on saying what I had come to say. "Tom," I began, "please hear me out. I worked this all out with my mum. I sent her a letter asking if you come could over for a day or so this summer, because I know you loathe the orphanage. She said it would be fine. And, Tom, we could do all sorts of fun stuff! We could play with my baby sister, or take my brother to the park, or do our homework, or visit my grumpy neighbor, or…anything! Please come over," I beseeched, "you would have a lot of fun! Or, if not, I hear the World Quidditch Cup will perform this year! If the tickets aren't too expensive, maybe you and I and my family can somehow arrange to go! Minerva McGonagall, my friend, is going, and I can ask her all about it, if you want me to. I've heard they are great fun! I mean, there are so many souvenirs, and so much action, and all sorts turn up to watch the game. Why, even ogres, I believe! Wouldn't it be simply stunning to see an ogre? Tom?"

Tom was starring out the window again, his brow furrowed, his eyes focused and unblinking, his stature straight.

"Tom?"

My question hung in the air for a great while, until Tom broke the silence, turning his face away from the window and to me.

"That sounds….fun. I'd like to…anything to get away from that horrid place."

I assumed he was talking about the orphanage, but I only cared about his first few words. "Fun" and "I'd like to." Those words made my day entirely, and I broke out in a happy grin.

"Great!" I practically shouted, not controlling my excitement and thrill very well. "That's just great! It'll be great fun, you'll see! Just think Tom, you and me and thousands of other wizards and souvenirs and Bludgers and food and Keepers and…" I trailed off excitedly, my sparkling eyes matching the grin underneath them.

And then, for perhaps just a second, a flicker of a smile crossed Tom's face, or was merely the moon that had peeped from behind a cloud in the east, a mere shadow of light across Tom's otherwise pale face?

wWw

When we emerged from behind the tapestry, the hallway looked dark and deserted. Some of the torches lining the wall had blown out ("I thought it was everlasting fire?" I asked Tom, who just shrugged). Even though the moon had finally shown his face, the light coming in from the windows was dark, and the hallway looked shadowy and forbidding. A strange feeling crept up my arms and settled on my head, where I could feel my hair standing on end.

And then, suddenly, faster than I could grip Tom's elbow in fear and ask him what in the magical world was happening, the whole hallway was plunged into darkness. The torches had been extinguished simultaneously.

Tom drew his wand out of his robes, holding it steadily in front of him. "Who is it? Who's there?" he demanded in a terribly menacing voice that perhaps chilled me even more.

And then the ghostly wailing started. "Awooohoooo ahhhh ooooo waaaa!" It sounded like some sort of ghost in pain and a mournful coyote howling in symphony. I listened in fear, my feet rooted to the ground and my wand now out beside Tom's. But my wand hand was shaking. His was as still as death. (Rather morbid simile, huh?)

The chilling call repeated itself twice more, and then there was dead silence. Except…what was that shape, up there by the ceiling, descending down upon us?

I let out a mouse-like squeak and watched as the big, black shape floated down toward us, with what looked like wings sprouting from its back flapping lazily. Some sort of flying monster!

Tom now was training his wand on the object, and shouted out a curse: "Reducto!" And then the next thing I knew, the black form was sailing back away from us and toward the ceiling, letting out a painful howl. "Watch where you're pointing that thing!" shrieked an all-too-familiar voice. A voice of a certain poltergeist that thoroughly annoyed all within the castle.

_Peeves._

He swooped back down toward us, and the lights came on as he did so. By the torches' light, I could see Peeves' pleased grin and the gargantuan black cloak he was wearing and the strips of cloth he had taped to his back to represent wings.

He let out a shriek of glee. "Scardey weren't you? Scardey of 'ol Peeves, I believe! I just can't wait to tell the schooley !" And, cackling madly, the poltergeist zoomed off down the hall in a fit of deranged glee.

I opened my mouth and closed it, mimicking a goldfish. "That…he…oh…how…I mean….how I hate him!" I shrieked, staring at the end of the hallway where Peeves had disappeared, still in shock. "I thought it was something much more sinister, and then it was that stupid poltergeist. You know what, Tom? I think I'm going to talk to Dippet and try to get Peeves expelled. Maybe," and this I added hopefully, "maybe he can send him to my grumpy old neighbor's house! She deserves it, all the times she has yelled at me and said rude things and insulted people behind their backs!"

It was all I could do not to go marching off to the headmaster's office right at that moment and demand the dismissal of Peeves as soon as humanly possible.

I looked over at Tom, hoping he would support me in my moment of passionate rage, but he merely looked thoughtful.

"Don't tell me you like the guy?" I asked him wearily.

"Not particularly," Tom replied, and I was happy for once that we agreed on something.

And together, we trotted back down the hallway and made our way back to our common rooms, carefully looking around corners and hiding behind suits of armor -which would swivel their rusty heads around unpleasantly to gaze at you hiding behind their backs- when I heard a chuckle or thought I saw the swish of a dark cloak or the malevolent grin of a certain poltergeist.


End file.
